


Fixing a Hole

by ThatwasJustaDream



Series: Everything You Want [6]
Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Established Relationship, Light Bondage, M/M, Marking, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Relationship Problems, Rough Sex, Separations, Sex Toys, Slash, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:05:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9275180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatwasJustaDream/pseuds/ThatwasJustaDream
Summary: Only a few weeks have passed since Mike and Harvey almost lost each other to their different views of their relationship. And now life is sending them in two directions, even as they're working hard to fix 'them'.





	1. The Airport

**Author's Note:**

> This is in my D/s world, set somewhere in a beautiful semi-canon AU corner of S2 where Mike doesn't get in too deep with Rachel but instead falls for his dom Harvey instead. It takes Harvey a little longer to fall (of course it would) and they've been through ups and downs by now - but this can probably be read independently of it all if you'd rather.

It should have set off more than a simple warning note in the back of his head, Mike buying a plane ticket to be with him until his flight left. But the reasoning was sound: The ticket cost less than a one-day car rental, and they’d had so little time to themselves lately.

Harvey was happy for company on the intensely boring ride to JFK. He’d taken Mike’s hand as they walked through the terminal, stole a brief kiss at the bar as they grabbed a drink near his gate, and what would have been drudgery was a pleasure.

But now...sitting in the waiting area by the windows and watching the plane roll in…

"Got any down-time plans?" Mike asked, his sneakered feet against the glass.

His voice was different. Tighter. The warning note in Harvey’s head got louder.

“Nothing big,” he shifted in the faux-leather and metal seat, taking Mike’s hand again. “I might see a college friend for dinner. Thinking about driving the Pacific Coast Highway one weekend. What about you? You can enjoy single life without me. Eat pizza, spend Saturdays in your underwear, nap like a boss….”

“I’ll be working,” Mike said, and yeah - _that_ sounded worse than tight. Pissy, more like it. “I’m going to work ‘til I crash and then get up and work again, so… you’ll know exactly where I am the whole three weeks. That's what I’m doing.”

The inference about the inverse and what Mike might not know pushed a wave of something angry through Harvey, but calming realization flowed in right behind it. Mike hadn’t seen this mood shift coming any more than he had.

“Hey,” he squeezed the hand in his and stroked Mike’s palm with his thumb. “Tell me you trust me. Please…tell me it’s not about…. _that_.”

_‘The plane’s about to board…’ Harvey didn’t say. ‘…and I can’t leave you like this.’_

“Of course I trust you,” Mike folded microscopically, eyes going to the carpet. He looked so young and vulnerable all at once that something in Harvey’s chest clenched.

“Good. I know it hasn’t been long since…I almost fucked us up. And it doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots, does it?”

It had started on business trip, their near breakup. Followed by them being apart for a dozen days while Mike worked in Cincy. They’d both put a lot of effort into repairing the rift those few days had led to, but….

Harvey felt what was left of the hole... the _seam_ most when they were fucking - felt Mike wanting it rougher, then borderline panicking when he got what he wanted. Felt how he was almost constantly working to shift gears for Mike. 

The dom as a puppet? Well, the subbie is always in charge, really, and that was the core of the problem: He had Mike’s heart back, but not his trust. Not one hundred percent.

“Why do you have to pull all of the road trips lately?” Mike snapped, but his tone was less ‘furious’ and more ‘annoyed’ and Harvey felt himself relax a little.

“It happens,” Harvey said. “I won’t have one forever. Then I’ll have three in a row. You know this is about a breach of contract case, and our client’s fighting a company smart enough to have gotten it in writing that California law prevails. God help us all.”

“Yeah,” Mike huffed at the thought. “Jessica must have been frigging thrilled with that.”

“Happily, I didn’t negotiate that bullshit agreement. She chewed me a new one even though it wasn’t even my fault. Imagine if it were?”

They were both chuckling, now. Mike looked abashed, and slightly deflated.

“I’m sorry, Harvey. This trip is just piss-poor timing and…I think it triggered something. I’ve been dreading today because I’m going to miss you so much.”

Loving words, simply spoken; Mike was blinking hard with the emotion of saying them, and all Harvey could do was swallow and shake his head.

“What?” Mike sounded amused; stuffy with tears, maybe a little worried. “What are you thinking?”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes.”

“If I say it… I can’t unsay it…”

“Harvey, they’re about to call Zone One…” Mike braced like he expected to get grief from him. “Tell me.”

“I was thinking,” Harvey leaned in to kiss him; to say the rest between repeated light presses of their mouths. “That somewhere in my youth or childhood… I must have done … something good.”

“Oh my God,” Mike sniffed harder, and Harvey thought he’d touched his heart until he saw Mike sinking in his seat – sad, still, but also giggling like he was stoned out of his mind. “That’s….so fucking cornball. Are you…”

“Fine. Goodnight.” Harvey was up and grabbing his carry-on.

“… _serious_?” 

“Enjoy the cab ride home,” Harvey tried to sound pissed as he leaned in for one more kiss. “Asshole. Tell me to have a good flight.”

“’Bye. Have a good flight,” Mike’s eyes were still bright, lit from his heart upward and Harvey lost his breath at the sight. “Call me when you land?”

“I will,” Harvey started away then turned back. “You’re Maria, by the way. I’m the captain.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Mike said. “I’d love to argue the point but….”

Harvey almost turned to look for him after his boarding pass got scanned and couldn’t; either Mike would still be there or he wouldn’t, and either way…

It was going to be a long three weeks in La La Land.


	2. Not missing you at all

_‘Here in one piece’_

Harvey texted it as the plane rolled in at LAX. It would take a few minutes to get to the gate; he filled the time watching the flashing blue and white runway lights and the screen in his hand.

‘ _Cool_ ,” came the reply, eventually. ‘ _Just fell into bed. Don’t miss u. Not touching myself. Or I am‘n now either way UR picturing it._ ’

That was followed by an actual ‘innocence’ emoji with a halo over its head. Harvey couldn’t not smile and huff out an involuntary little sound, but happily the person in seat 1B was busy on his cell, too, and it didn’t draw any attention.

‘ _Huh. Was gonna say I miss your smile and your eyes, but you go straight for the gutter_.’

The little bubble thing showed up on Harvey’s phone right away.

‘ _Ha. Right_.’

‘ _I'd be offended if I didn’t love U for the needy tease of a subbie cocksucker U are_.’

Harvey felt how he was biting his own lip, waiting for what he’d see next.

‘ _Mmmm.... am picturing something now, too. How long til U… miss me_?’

Harvey shifted in his seat, looking out the window. It would be at least ninety minutes to the hotel, and it was already after midnight back at home.

 _‘?????? A while. Send me pics? Video?_ _No - both._ ’

‘ _Is that an order, sir?_ ’

‘ _It’s a request from your loving dom. So, yes._ ’

That got him a lopsided smiley face in return and then a thumbs up.

Harvey smiled back at it for a bit and then shut down his phone – before he got a fucking hard-on sitting on a goddamn plane at an airport a few thousand miles from where he wanted to be. 

-*-

They didn’t talk for a couple of days, and Mike found he was okay with it. It reminded him of the not very distant past when they were new at this and hearts weren’t deeply in play; when they spent Wednesday and Saturday together and the rest was work and life.

He was busy, too - super-busy keeping up with all the cases Harvey had to leave behind to deal with the mess in Cali. But Harvey had left on Sunday, and now it was Wednesday, one of ‘their’ days and….

“So, uh…what are these?” Mike asked him over the phone, pulling the first of two boxes wrapped in silvery grey wrapping paper from the Fedex envelope.

It was lunchtime; he was at his desk, waiting for his Lo Mein and soup to arrive. Harvey was in La Brea, riding in what passed for, his words, an ‘okay if shabby’ limo headed to the office space the firm had rented for him. 

“They’re gifts,” He heard Harvey’s tone – like he was mildly annoyed at having to state the obvious. “One is business… one is….so _not_ business.”

“Ahh, I see….” The card on the first box had ‘Nice’ written in Harvey’s spidery cursive. “Very funny..….”

Mike pulled out the second one, exactly the same long, narrow shape and size, with a card that read ‘Naughty.’

“We’ve been on the phone three minutes,” Harvey pointed out. “You haven’t ripped them both open yet?”

“I haven’t,” Mike looked them over, holding the desk phone to his ear with his shoulder and twirling a box in either hand. Neither was very heavy. “Aren’t you going to commend me on my willpower?”

“Of course I am… not. I’m surprised, I'll give you that much.”

“I take it I should only open the one box here?”

“I would shield the other from plain sight. The label suggests that, boy wonder.”

“Fuck you.”

“Maybe someday. No promises.”

Mike had already felt a twinge of something at the sight of the second card; Harvey’s words took it from a twinge to low throbbing web of want, though he knew better than to try and pursue that very intriguing offer right now.

“What are these for?”

“‘Nice’ is a kind of ‘congratulations in advance’ for nailing our motion on behalf of the members of United Engineering in court later today.”

“Harvey… Jesus, don’t…jinx me.”

“No such thing as jinxes, Mike. No such thing as…”

“Luck, yeah. But… still.”

“You’re going to murder the greedy bastards trying to take advantage of those workers. I mean… in the perfectly legal, tactical, courtroom sense of the word, of course.”

“Of course. How do you know?”

“Because we talked through it all before I left, and you’re locked and loaded. You’re going to kick them so hard, Mike, there’s no getting up.”

“I hope so. I do feel ready. What’s the ‘naughty’ for?”

“Did you think I’d forget it's our first Wednesday apart in some time?”

“I’m glad you didn’t forget,” Mike set the boxes on his desk, a hand going to the phone against his ear like holding it would somehow make them closer together.

“It’s… not a reward, though," Harvey said. "More of a challenge, if you choose it.”

“Want to elaborate?”

“I did elaborate,” Harvey’s voice turned arch. “On a note inside the box. Read everything in there, okay?"

“Yeah,” Mike ran fingers over the paper, resisting the urge to tear at the tape. “I will.”

Keeping that edge of mystery about the boxes? It worked. He did kill them in court; so much that Louis danced an actual frigging happy dance when Mike walked back in the office right around five p.m.

Mike’s only eternal regret is he didn't get that shit on video.

-*-

It was after ten at night when he opened the ‘Nice’ box. He was at his place, sitting naked on the edge of his bed - getting ready to set up the iPad with Skype on it; to prep himself for Harvey, tighten his collar, and kneel up in wait for his call.

He would open ‘Naughty’ last, would read the instructions as agreed but for right now… 

“Ohhhhh…..” Mike couldn’t not sigh out loud at the ‘Hublot’ insignia on the box. “Jesus…Harvey…what the hell?”

Mike flipped the case open and tilted the Ferrari King Gold watch into his hand. It was…perfect. Not sleek and yet clearly luxe; spare and practical with steel bolts and dials and a red-tipped sweep hand. It looked like a watch you’d wear while driving the Le Mans or the Dakar Rally. It looked fucking …rich and _scrappy_ and cost forty thousand, easy.

Mike let himself enjoy it; trying it on, setting it on the end table, watching it like a new pet. It would be easy to think Harvey was merely giving his boyfriend an expensive toy, but Mike knew better. This was a symbol of precisely how sure Harvey had been of him.

He could feel his heart beating in his throat when he picked up ‘Naughty’ and flicked open the tape at one end. Whatever it held – Harvey had put just as much thought into it.

Lucky him?


	3. Connected

“You’re laughing…” Harvey settled on the couch with his laptop, their video call full screen. It was streaming a damn near edible view of Mike in his own bedroom, kneeling on the mattress, arms loose behind his back with a hand holding the other wrist. “Not a promising start, Chuckles.”

He tried to sound annoyed, but Mike looked so fucking adorable; squinty heart eyes and a smirk, cock at half-mast, visibly happy for this time together even if it had to be remote. Harvey couldn’t hold some nervous laughter against him.

“You asked for extra sheets and covered the sofa with them. Didn’t you?”

“Hell, yeah, I did.” Harvey gestured around himself. “Shared furniture? It’s a suite, yes, and not a half bad one but… I frigging hate business hotels.”

“I know you do,” Mike’s smile turned softer. “Are you gonna…. play along? Or mostly watch me?”

They’d never done this before – had never needed to. He could see Mike was self-conscious, his shame kink visible as he blinked and glanced away from the screen.

Harvey was determined to make this …what? _Good_ for him? Not the right word. Intense; to leave Mike feeling so thoroughly taken, so possessed even from a distance that it would help the many days ahead of them go faster.

“I'm going to watch you … so closely…” Harvey shifted lower, feet finding the coffee table, adjusting the bed pillow he’d tucked behind him. "Enjoy you losing your shit. Then I’ll go re-live it and paint the shower floor. That’s the plan, at least.”

That got a low snort out of Mike, but he was blinking again- faster, now, like he was suddenly much more conscious of being naked, on his knees, and in front of a camera.

“How do you want to start? Sir?”

“Did you prep the way I asked?” Harvey saw him nod. “Show me. Turn around, and show me the plug. Nice. You didn’t have to use the larger one, but… thanks for going big. Lean forward. No… all the way down; head on the bed and…good… now stay there and reach back. Spread your cheeks for me. Do you know how much I want to fuck you? Always want to...all the damn time.”

“Will you?” Mike was forehead down and his voice was muffled, but then he turned slightly, left cheek on the mattress, the plug doing a tight, jerky little dance as he squeezed repeatedly around it. “When we’re together … will you tie me to the bed and fuck me hard, sir? My dom…he never fucks me hard enough.”

“Careful, tease. Did you read the instructions with your new toy?”

“Yes. Enough to know how to use _… them_ on myself.”

“You didn’t read the whole thing? Why?” 

“I’m sorry; I was distracted by your note, sir. I read your rules first, and … I lost some time,” Mike hadn’t moved – was holding the exact position asked of him for Harvey’s viewing pleasure, but he was shifting around a bit, fingers digging into his ass cheeks and even his toes flexing and twitching. “I couldn’t stop thinking about the two punishments.”

“Which one did you pick?” Harvey asked.

“I don’t think I should have to tell you.”

“Kneel up.” Harvey waited while he did; gave him some time to shake out his arms and settle into his former position. Then he waited some more. “Why not?”

“Your note said if I take the toys for twenty minutes and don’t come…then I don’t get punished on your first weekend home. I shouldn’t have to pick, in case I don’t fail.”

“What do you estimate is your percentage chance of lasting twenty minutes?”

“I don’t know. Sixty percent?”

“Did you try out the toy?”

“No.” 

“Did you read the whole book?”

“No. I already told you I didn’t. Sir.”

“I _did_ read it – including the reviews at the end. You’ve got about a five percent chance of lasting. Plus… it’s information I _want_ to hear from you….” Harvey let his voice turn harder. “So commit to _one_ … say it out _loud_ … or you’ll _get_ both.”

That did it: Mike was visibly starting to slide into the fuzzy beginnings of his headspace - still holding his position but swaying, gaze fixed on nothing at all, tongue flicking over his lower lip. Harvey swore he could see Mike’s heart beating faster in his chest; could feel him wanting to let go of his wrist to touch himself.

“I… I’ll take the crop. Please,” he said eventually, voice floaty, too. “The first option; a spanking and then the crop…and you can use the crop on my cock and balls.”

“Huh…” Harvey watched Mike visibly getting dizzier, and _shit_ he wanted to be with him, now; to pin him with his body and bind his wrists, his ankles. “Why that one?”

“Three reasons,” Mike refocused if only slightly, his expression taking on that ‘intrigued’ look he sometimes got when describing an epiphany at work, nose scrunching, and Harvey had to smile. “You said one hour start to finish; a fixed time and we’re done. I like the other option better because it doesn’t involve pain, but it lasts a full day and I won’t always have the choice to talk with you. After three weeks apart…I’ll _need_ to talk with you. A lot.”

Mike stopped, looking actually _away_ and for a second Harvey thought he’d lost count.

“Go on…” he prompted him.

“Third…aftercare is my favorite part, and your aftercare when I’ve taken something I don’t like? It’s….amazing. I’m going to need that, too. I wish we could…. I’m going to miss it tonight.”

“My Mike….” Harvey breathed it. “Thank you for your answer. Lie on your back for me. Slide on the cock sleeve first.” 

-*-

Harvey knew his subbie didn’t only have a great memory, of course – he also tended to latch onto concepts and guess at the possibilities before others might, so… he was just as glad Mike barely had time to skim the instructions.

It was going to make this even better.

“Have you… uh _mmm_ mm…tried it?” Mike was on his back and already a little breathless; pushing into his own hand, dialing the toy up and down with his thumb as he did.

“Yes. It came as a set of four pieces,” Harvey said. “What do you think?”

“I was… maybe… _fuck_ …optimistic about lasting,” Harvey could hear the toy’s low hum get ever so slightly louder; had to resist the urge to unzip - to hold and tug his own cock as Mike pushed up harder and faster.

They weren’t even on the clock yet; he was letting Mike try it out, first.

The cock sleeve had a firm rubber top third or so, ending in a softer material meant to be rolled down about two and a half inches. Inside the tip sat ribs that could contract and/or vibrate, along with a kind of oscillating membrane at the very top. Play it on the lower settings - either by hand or via an app- and it felt like getting gently-to-enthusiastically sucked off. Crank it up, push into it and it was a lot like fucking someone else.

Even the part that rolled down sent pulses that added something _damn_ hard not to come to all by themselves, so… yeah: Someday Mike would beat the odds and win, would avoid a punishment, but it wasn’t going to be tonight.

“I see you like it,” Harvey murmured. “Playing to lose?”

“No….fu _uuc_ k, no, I’ve…got this…” Mike said, but he was digging his heels into the bed, panting harder.

“How about you lose the plug and try out the other piece?”

“K…” Mike flopped; lay still a moment, catching his breath. Then he rolled on his side, face to the camera, a thought visibly growing. “Did you try…. _that_ one, too?”

Harvey waited a beat to answer, with a smirk that said ‘cheeky monkey’.

“No. You’ve been thinking about it, huh? Since I told you the other day that maybe someday….you can have your way with me?”

“I might have…” Mike was twisting around, an arm behind him; had pulled out the ass plug, and was slowly inserting the prostate massager. “…thought of it, once or twice. Wondered if…um _mm_ mm… it would be a …first for you?”

“It will be,” Harvey said. “A first. If we go there - in an entirely ...vanilla way.”

“Of course. That’s the only way we ever…cou…oh _hh_ h, fuck… oh, sh _ittt_ ttt…..” Mike was still on his side; hips twisting, thrusting at thin air, the cock toy bumping against his belly as his eyes squeezed shut and he fucked himself with the massager.

“Did I tell you to turn it on, yet?” Harvey drawled the words.

“Damnnn….ohh _hh_ hh…. no,” Mike turned it off; stayed where he was, arm still behind him, but went face down breathing into the pillow.

Harvey had sensed without being told that Mike went into this with low expectations for at least this portion of the toy; had probably wished for his favorite vibe, which was wider but older and not nearly so _varied_ in the combination of twists and pulses and thrusts it could give.

“Was it even on high?” Harvey asked.

“No _ooo_ oo,” was the response; a single syllable turned into three wavering ones and Harvey was biting his lip, hearing Mike instantaneously regretting his own honesty.

“Ten seconds; move it where you feel it most, and take it on high for ten. C’mon, I want to watch that. You can do it….”

Mike was visibly not sure, considering they hadn’t even started – but he was complying; turning, getting half up on his knees and adjusting it. Harvey didn’t have to ask when he’d found it.

“Unngh…fuck….. _fuuuuck_ …no …no way…oh _hhh_ h, too….too much….”

It took him almost the full time to get the words out; then he was flat on his face, humping the mattress with something between a whine and a groan.

“Thank you, subbie,” Harvey put the laptop on the coffee table: Watching, it turned out, would definitely not be enough. He unzipped and slid down his pants. “Do you need a minute?”

Mike nodded, mouth falling softly open, regarding Harvey with one blinking eye. He didn’t seem to be seeing much at this point– clearly didn’t notice Harvey sliding on his own sleeve and pulling something up on his phone.

“Who … _designs_ something like that?” Mike asked, voice heavy and slow.

“Someone with more cash than either of us,” Harvey said, enjoying the long, wordless sound of agreement that got him. “Turn over; on your back again, and arrange yourself how you want. Put your phone on the nightstand, hands overhead and grab a wrist - and I don’t want you to let it go. Got that? You can move around however you feel, but don’t let your hands loose or touch yourself. Not once.”

“Um… I heard you, but… how…” Mike was flipping, again; cheeks bright pink with exertion and a full-on case of bedhead - looking so goddamned delicious Harvey wasn’t sure how eighteen more days apart were even possible. “….how am I gonna run this thing when my hands are over my…”

“ _You’re_ not going to,” Harvey hit two controls on the app in quick succession. “I am…”

-*-

_Jeeez…us…._

It would have been worth ten times what he paid to see it: Mike’s lower back and neck arching at the same time, arms reaching _way_ over his head - so much tension in that body, he looked to be all gorgeous, over stimulated angles.

To hear him almost shout like that - with surprise; body jumping, barely sticking to his promise to keep his hands together. Harvey watched Mike adjust; accept the unexpected, ride the feelings he could not control or stop without asking….maybe begging.

Harvey let him settle in. Then, he dialed both pieces of the toy up…up….

“Please…Harvey…no, no….please….” Mike was shaking; body jumping, voice tight – so visibly on the edge. “Neeed you to….stop. Stop….”

He was close to sobbing, even though he could stop this himself at any time – could simply let go and reach and take off the toys, but he didn’t. And he didn’t color out, either, so…..

“Catch your breath,” Harvey dialed it down. “Ten seconds.”

Mike was sweating; his throat dry enough that his gasps were audibly raspy. He lay there in a heap, breathing fast and shallow – hand still restrained.

“Good. You’re doing so well….”

Three times he made him ride them: An upward wave of sensations strong enough to make anyone come - for a minute…two…more… without giving in. Harvey wasn’t far from losing it, himself; eyes locked on the screen, alternately stroking and holding himself, aching but wanting to be ‘on’ for his boy the next time up the ladder.

“Breathe….again.” Harvey turned off both toys entirely, shivering at what he was feeling and the sight of Mike flat out on his back, now. “Want the good news, or the bad news?”

“Good news…” Mike murmured, and it sounded like another plea.

“You’re over half way to twenty minutes.”

“That’s…the bad news…too. Isn’t it?”

“See? So quick…you are....” Harvey turned on the cock ring portion of Mike’s toy, only – and low. “Turn on your stomach for me? C’mon…”

Mike had been all over the place; had kicked the top sheet of his bedcoverings practically to the floor. He rolled back to face-down; on his elbows, hands still overhead, ass up, knees digging into the bed like he was bracing.

Harvey could only see one side of his face, but… so pretty. So frantic.

“You can use this alone while I’m gone, Mike. But our two halves, they can work together, wherever I am and wherever you are. As in I do this….” Harvey hit a setting with one hand, pushing his sleeved cock into his clenched hand once, hard. “…you feel _that_.”

Mike grunted loudly, visibly confused for a split second – then he pushed up all the way to his wrists, eyes flying to the screen to look for Harvey’s.

“ _How_ …” he asked, and Harvey pushed up - again and again; short, punching thrusts into his fist. “How, Harvey… oh, yesssss, ohhh….please…fuck, _fuck_ me, yeah, uhhhngh don’t…stop….”

Harvey was barely holding on, himself; swearing under his breath, not sure he’d outlast him until he saw it – Mike still on his knees but falling, again, face on the bed and elbows up in the air like a cat. He was seizing; silent until he was yelling out his relief, hips stuttering as he came.

So …long. It felt like so long he was fucking him through it, then coming behind him. It wasn’t ‘til he collapsed, too, that he heard it – Mike whimpering, so good for him, still taking his last thrusts even though Mike was well past wanting them.

“You can take them off,” Harvey told him. “Take them off, and pull up the sheet – so you don’t cool off too fast….”

Mike looked so alone; visibly shaking, again. He needed it- something warm and solid against him, something Harvey was used to being able to provide him without a thought

  
“Oh… God…” Mike rolled half on his back and half on his side, stripping away the toys and reaching blindly for the sheet.

He covered up; looked loose and very deeply sated. “That thing is… fucking magic.”

“Not magic,” Harvey was still catching his breath. “Bluetooth. Device ID-operated. That’s all. 

“No. Fucking…magic….”

“Put a pillow behind you; If I can’t hold you…we can talk. Do you want that?”

“Hell, yeah…” Mike said. “You first.”

Harvey did; told him about Los Angeles – how it wasn’t awful but wasn’t New York, not any place in it like New York.

Mike asked questions a couple of times – voice still loopy. Harvey waited until he sounded like he could take part again.

“Are they piling shit on you?” He asked him. “On top of our work?”

“No. Not…too bad. Won’t be surprised if they try but…not yet. Louis was so happy about the other day… it’s like a frigging…hall pass, or something.”

“If they do, you'll tell me. Yes?”

“Yes.”

Harvey managed to get him to segue into the latest office minutia; who was late, and who’d screwed up royally in court and who was pissed at whom. He pulled the laptop back to him as Mike talked; watched him sink deeper and deeper into the pillow behind him.

He barely heard the content, honestly; mostly he wanted to hear that voice.

-*-

Harvey stood under the showerhead a good twenty minutes later; absorbing the extra hot water, the shower floor in no danger of being molested after all -- until he felt like a noddle with half a prayer of falling asleep as Mike had in front of his eyes.

As he soaped and rinsed off, he wondered when it was, exactly, they’d become so much to each other that falling asleep alone was a challenge for him?

It took a long body pillow under the sheet; something to wrap around, too, before he could start nod off.

-*-

A text message sound going off the next morning woke him before his alarm; Mike’s text sound.

_We shd protect nxt Friday PM. U can maybe come home or I go there nxt w/end?_

_I like how you think…_ Harvey wrote back, sitting up in bed. _How’s next week looking? Monday especially? U can take the redeye back to NYC if no AM court._

_IDK. Talk later?_

That was it from him for so long that Harvey thought maybe he was walking to work or going through security, headed into court, until…

_I <3 you_

Harvey couldn’t resist.

_You less than three me?_

_Ass_

There was another long pause- so much, he wondered if he’d really annoyed him. Then …

An emoticon. A kiss emoticon. Heart eyes. It looked an awful lot like his boy.

Harvey keyed an answer in….

_I less than three you, too. You know that, right?_

_Yes_

Not a jaunty, yellow thumbs up  - which could be sincere or could be a throw off. Just the three letters.

Next weekend was many days away -- and not a sure thing, at all. Who knew if they’d see each other? Still…. Harvey found L.A. a lot easier to take, that Thursday.


	4. Disconnected

**Wednesday Next**

It took another week until their involuntary separation started feeling like forever – at least to Mike. He couldn’t speak for Harvey, who generally sounded, on the phone, either fine or very distracted by his case.

Wednesday -- as in day ten with them only visible to each other on a screen once in a while: No supportive voice nearby helping him work through hitches in his workday, no one murmuring in his ear in a courtroom, whispering strategy. Forget about anyone sneaking up behind him at his desk, seeing how close in and over him he could get before Mike jumped, startled, and glared up to see that face grinning down.

And being home in his apartment alone; there was another unhappy revelation, because… it never used to bother Mike. Now it sucked: No deep, even breathing next to him when he’d wake up at four a.m.; no tall, solid body pulling him in for a hug and a lingering kiss as they fixed dinner, or pinning him to the bed, eyes dark and full of ‘I want you.’

“No, no…nope. No way!” Mike’s grip on his office phone tightened until his fingers hurt. “That is not okay.”

“C’mon… don’t. Please. I only told you as a heads up: There’s no saying for sure yet that I’ll need to stay here longer than expected. But this merger’s a nightmare. Every offer we make leads to ten more questions we have to research."

“Maybe you need someone more skilled at your side.”

Hadn’t Harvey thought of that? Jessica had gotten him both an associate and a paralegal from their sister office in Burbank - people who ostensibly knew California law like the back of their hands. But if they weren’t getting anywhere…

“She can’t afford us both being out of town right now, Mike. And you know it.”

“Yeah. I sure as hell do …” Mike heard his own ragged tone of voice, and instantly regretted tipping his hand about how weary he felt.

“What’s wrong?”

“United Engineering. They’re appealing our win.”

“We knew that was coming. Either one of us would have put money on it. What else?”

“The Finley case; the judge denied my motion to delay.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. I might need to mail you back my new watch, huh?”

“Don’t you dare. Are other things piling up, too? You sound worn.”

“A little. It’s no one’s fault; we’re up to our necks. And don’t get me wrong; I’m good, I know I’m good but I’m not as _grounded_ without you.”

“Mike…..”

Harvey’s voice – it was supportive, a note of understanding in there, but also something like a warning. It sounded like an ‘I can’t do this right now.’

“Understood. Man up and shut up, right?”

“I did not say that – or mean it, either.”

“My turn for bad news,” Mike jumped in, as much as to keep from spiraling into a truly pissy mood as anything. “I can’t play later. I’ll be lucky to get home by midnight, and...”

“It's okay.”

“I don’t think I can fly out there this weekend, either.”

“That bad, huh?” He heard a clear note of disappointed but not surprised in Harvey's voice. “Had a feeling.”

“Gotta be here to play good cop for Louis' deposition first thing on Monday. If I ask him to go with someone else...."

The two of them might be the worst kept secret ever, but they _were_ still under wraps – and, trying to keep their relationship from being seen as a potential detriment to the company.

“I’m in the same boat about Monday,” Harvey said. “Listen… we can do this, can’t we? Some people have to be apart for months at a time.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You don't have any reason to say 'sorry,' as far as I'm concerned. And…hey… I feel it too, you know? The lack of you. I keep turning to tell you something and you’re not there. Every time it happens? I don’t like it - at all.”

“Fuck…” Mike drew in a long breath. 

“I didn’t say that to upset you,” Harvey’s voice turned a touch more brusque, but Mike could hear he wasn’t sliding into ‘talk to the hand’ mode as easily or fully as he sometimes could. “I need you to understand… you’re not in this alone.”

Well, hell, Mike thought after they said their goodbyes. When had Harvey Specter last told someone that he was missing him multiple times a day? 

It got him through a very long night at the office and a quick turnaround the next morning realizing that the answer might be ‘never.’

-*-

**Friday Morning - NYC**

“Yo, Mike…” a voice called to him.

He needed two more steps to both come to a stop and to realize the voice belonged to Louis.

_Yo?_

Mike shifted into reverse – literally – walking backward until he was in front of Louis’ door again, tossing him a sideways ‘WTF’ look.

“I can’t pull that word off,” Louis asked. “Can I?”

“You're right; you can't,” Mike said, hands going to his pockets as he walked into Louis' office. “And…. what do you want from me?”

Louis was being more than reasonable with him in Harvey’s absence; a development both welcomed and a surprise. Still… he couldn’t help but feel that either extra scrutiny or a crap ton of research was about to be put on him. Or both, possibly.

“What I want is to tell you our Monday deposition has been pushed back,” Louis said. “All the way to Wednesday. Which means I won’t need you in early that day, after all.”

 _Wow_ , Mike thought. Holy… _fuck_ … he did not say.

“Oh….kay,” he did say, eventually. “Why, exactly, was it pushed back?”

"Are you kidding?” Louis barely looked up from the contract he was penning notations on. “Gift horse, Mike. Why are you prying its mouth open?”

“Got it,” Mike said - tone flat and level, but still somehow conveying ‘what is this going to cost me?’

“Just… email me some sort of official reason for being an hour or so late that day,” Louis shrugged. “And make damn sure your …..um… _dentist_ ….lands the red-eye at JFK by 7:30 a.m. If you're super late and Jessica figures out why? You're on your own.”

Several things went through Mike’s mind at once: First, the realization that he must be visibly stressed without Harvey - enough that Louis saw it. Second, that Louis needed Mike on his best game for another ten more days, and maybe longer, and so this was far from a gift on his part.

It was somehow heart-warming and deeply embarrassing, too. Mike wanted to say something lightly snarky at him, but didn’t trust himself not to go overboard, piss Louis off, and screw the whole deal.

“Yeah…” he shot him a ‘thank you’ half salute, instead. “See you… Monday, bright and early...ish.”

Louis’ half-nod was a ‘Yeah, whatever, that’s on you, kid.’

Mike was on his phone, booking a 2:00 p.m. flight to LAX before he was even three steps away.

-*-

**Friday Morning- Los Angeles**

“Well that was fun,” Harvey pressed the button to end the conference call with their client. “Not.”

Their unreasonably pissed off, messenger-shooting, clueless client and his jerk of a toadie representative, Harvey thought to himself. He didn't want to poison the professional waters by saying it out loud in front of an employee, though.

“What a douchebag,” Elisa said, and…yeah, that was another way to put it.

Elisa, his paralegal: sharp, efficient, bright-eyed. Twenty-five, tops? Hyper-ambitious. Not that Harvey had noticed all of that, or her shining hair so black it had blue tones through it when the sun hit it right.

There was a day he’d have done more than notice her. Hell, yes, he would have.

“I don’t know…” Harvey took on a broad, mock Transatlantic accent – very smooth, very nineteen forties; lobbing up a line to see if it landed with her. “I like him. He’s got a lot of charm.”

“Well he comes by it naturally,” Elisa’s hand went to her hip, her head tilting at a jaunty angle, voice going all ‘Brooklyn girl meets Northeast Finishing School.’ “His grandfather was a snake.”

Oh….my. God. She’d hit it right back to him.

“How the hell ....do you know that?” Harvey barely noticed himself kicking back in his desk chair; rocking in it, something he hadn’t felt in three days teasing at his lips. 

A smile.

“I may be a millennial,” Elisa shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the best movies ever. And don’t get me started on Carey Grant, because….damn, sir..... his face hurts my feelings. Plus … I fancy myself a little bit like Hildy. If I’m not being overly generous?”

“Let’s hear it then,” Harvey said, waving an ‘I’m waiting’ finger roll at her.

“Now, get this, you double-crossing chimpanzee,” Elisa resumed the position: Hip tilted, green eyes narrowing, spewing brilliant venom. “There ain't going to be any interview and there ain't going to be any story. I wouldn't cover the burning of Rome for you if they were just lighting it up. If I ever lay my two eyes on you again, I'm gonna walk right up to you and hammer on that monkeyed skull of yours 'til it rings like a Chinese gong!”

Harvey was laughing under his breath by the words 'burning of Rome' - at the sharp, clipped tone and the perfect, staccato pacing. He felt happy endorphins flowing by the words ‘monkeyed skull,’ quickly followed by a dose of…..

Guilt. Deep….deep guilt.

“I’ve got someone who would truly…savor that performance,” Harvey told her, giving a nod of appreciation for it.

“She's a movie buff, too?,” Elisa asked.

“He…” Harvey corrected, and saw her quick nod of acknowledgement. “He is. With a good eye for cinematic excellence - for excellence in most everything, actually. Except in that he's deeply invested in me, so....”

"Well," Elisa reverted into 'His Girl Friday' mode one more time. "There's no accounting for taste, is there?"

Harvey accepted the ribbing- he'd practically asked for it. Then he excused himself to head for the lobby: Grabbed a bottle of water from the vending machines by the elevators, taking a walk around the grounds of the office building while he drank it. Shaking off the feeling of how very good it felt to laugh for a damn minute....

…..but how much he’d rather have shared it with someone else.

-*-

**NYC - 1pm**

"Excuse me.... have you got..." Mike shifted in the back seat of the black car to get the driver's attention. "Have you got a phone charger up there?"

He waggled his phone in the general direction of where the guy was looking up into his rear-view mirror, and got a head shake and a brief 'no, sir, sorry' in return. 

Mike could have sworn he saw a furtive hand motion; the driver sweeping something away from the console and onto the floor between his feet. He probably lost a lot of chargers that way, lending them to passengers with money who should have had theirs handy but didn't, so...... he couldn't blame him if he was lying.

He'd actually tried to reach Ray, first - figuring he'd be most likely to get quick, last minute service from him - but Ray's voicemail said he was out of town for the week. He probably saw a chance to take a break with Harvey gone - quick trip to Vegas, or to see family. It only emphasized to Mike how much his own life was also starting to revolve around where Harvey was and wasn't. It added another dollop of stress to these couple of hours, fighting to get out of town and to him.

"C'mon.... one call...." MIke pressed Harvey's number, and willed the power bar not to dip below two percent. "Just make it through one more call...."

It connected. Mike heard Harvey's phone ring and ring but...no Harvey. 

And then no battery.

"Goddammit!" Mike tucked the currently useless brick in his pocket and fumed. 

That's about all there was to do, at this point.

-*-

**LA - 10:10 am**

"You had a call, boss," Harvey saw Elisa gesturing with a slip of paper when he got back to their office.

He glanced at it as he sat at his desk, and could feel the number on it drawing a frown.

"Oh," She seemed both distracted and mildly amused to see him crumpling up the paper and flipping it right into the garbage. "That particular call came in through the office phone, but... your cell also rang a couple of minutes ago. I didn't pick it up. Just .... thought I should tell you. In case it's important."

He'd left it on the conference table; gestured for her to grab it and hand it over if she would. 

Harvey felt it when he saw Mike's number on the recent calls screen; that frizzion of 'happy' and an equally annoyed kick of 'why didn't you take your phone downstairs with you?" He tried him back, but Mike wasn't picking up now. Just about quarter after one in the city: Harvey figured he was probably grabbing a quick bite before court got back in session. 

 

"Huh," Elisa said, sitting down at the conference table and flipping through a file, nodding over at him. "That was a real, weight of the world sigh there, boss."

"Are you ... _analyzing_ me?" He kept the tone only lightly disapproving; teasingly offputting, without being pissy. "I'm still adjusting to left coast time. That's all."

Elisa shrugged and got back to work.

She was smart and funny, and a little too attentive, maybe, Harvey thought. He approved of her efforts.... but had less than zero interest in her knowing anything about his life. Including his Mike. 

 

-*-

**Los Angeles - 6:25pm**

"How much longer, do you think?" Mike asked, glancing between the taxi driver and the phone currently charging in his hand.

"With traffic? Twenty... maybe twenty five minutes," came the answer.

There had been wifi on the plane, but the chargers had that funky jack that required an airline-designed plug and....what were the odds the stewards had none on board to sell him? Mike had thought about asking them to put out a general call on the intercom for him, but that would be.... 

....too much. He was making too much of this. He'd be there soon, and Harvey would be so happy to see him.

Of course he would. Wouldn't he?

At least the cab driver he drew had an actual charger and a jack in the 'hump' between seats to plug it into. The first bar was lit, and Mike knew another one or two would be enough - he'd get a call in to him.

Which he did, ten minutes later, but...no Harvey. Again. A trend Mike was finding beyond frustrating, now.

"Shit," He thought, eyeing his phone morosely. He thought about leaving a message but didn't. 

He was almost there, anyway. But what if Harvey wasn't? Who knew - maybe he was catching up with that college friend he mentioned? 

It was suddenly feeling like a very long day.

-*-

**Los Angeles - 6:25 pm**

"Hold on," Harvey called to whoever was knocking at the door to his suite. "Hold on a damn minute...."

It was annoying on a couple of levels: First, he'd gotten his shoes off and been half a second from losing his socks and shirt on his way to getting naked and into a hot, Friday night, pre-dinner shower. And secondly, there was no one he was expecting, so.... 

What the hell?

The suites were set up with a shared lobby on each floor: a wide circle with a sitting area in the center, and elevators on three points in said circle. There was hardly ever anyone up this high - no one traipsing from the restaurant to their room and then back to the pool; it was pretty much only those with business going on at the hotel or staying there, so ....

....she was standing all alone when he looked out the peephole; patient, hands folded in front of her - looking somewhat coyly up toward the little circle in the door where she had to know he was standing, now, from the rasp of the peephole cover.

"Hi," she said, simply, when Harvey opened it - him standing in a way to definitively block her entrance.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked.


	5. Slow Motion Collision

Part of Harvey expected to see Elisa standing on his hotel doorstep. He should have given her more credit, though: She was out, probably, enjoying L.A. with friends on a Friday night the way she should be. 

Whereas _this_ one? She was so barking up the wrong tree. He felt as close as he’d ever been in their lives to physically furious with her. 

“I haven’t returned even one of your calls,” he told Scottie tersely, staying put in his own doorway. “Didn’t respond to the one this afternoon, or any of them the last few weeks. Same goes for your emails. So what made you think it’s okay to swing by?”

“You know, a simple ‘hello’ wouldn’t cost you,” She turned sideways and slid under his arm, walking past him. “I was worried: I tell you I’m here for a case and still…. you don’t call, you don’t write. When I heard you were alone… I needed to make sure you’re okay - that your poor, sad excuse for a Golden Boy isn’t manipulating your life savings out of you or something equally dismal but predictable.”

“He’d never use me like a tool. Unlike most of my exes,” Harvey said, and waited for it to land with her. “And he’s not poor.”

“Not anymore, is he?” Scottie tossed her bag on the foyer side table. “All because of you.”

“Look at me,” Harvey bit the words out, and somewhere deep down a part of him was pleased to see her head snap his way. “You’re not wanted here. Leave.”

“If I’m not wanted, how did I get in?" She recovered from her surprise; shrugged and took off her suit jacket, walking to the sofa to toss it over the back. “I’m a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet; if you didn’t want me here… I’d still be out there.”

He wanted to point out that only sick men roughed up women, but she knew that; knew he had no choice but to _talk_ her away.

“I can’t be any more direct,” Harvey watched her lean a hand on the sofa, kicking off her heels and flexing her feet on the carpet like she was so relieved to be free of them. “I’m happy – more than I ever was with you. He and I …are _right_ every day, even on the bad days. In a way you and I never were.”

“Sorry,” she was walking around the sofa, now – headed for the near corner and taking a seat, settling in. “I’m not easily sold, especially with top-line aphorisms. Want me to back off? Convince me it’s about more than him being a great fuck. Which I’m assuming he is, ‘cause even with his sharp mind and pretty eyes … I don’t see how he trumps me. How does he trump me, Harvey?”

“Don’t you feel even a little pathetic right now?”

He knew it had stung; saw the slightest flinch precede the head tilt and a squint it got from her. As much as it pissed him off, Harvey realized he must like the look - it could have been Mike’s ‘oh, please’ he was looking at.

“Get me a drink,” She settled in even deeper, folding one leg under her. “You must have a bottle of something halfway decent since, from what I hear, you’re staying a while. Get us each one, and if you convince me? Then I’ll go for good.”

Harvey thought about reversing his position on physical force; maybe hauling her as gently as possible over his shoulder and depositing her on the lobby floor less tenderly.

But if he could make her see? Then maybe this would all be worth it. 

And it wasn’t like he had anything more productive to do at the moment.

-*-

“Thanks, man,” Mike tipped his driver with cash, taking the carry-on the guy had pulled from the trunk for him. “Good luck to your Dodgers…at least ‘til July. After that…no offense, but I hope we kick their asses in four.”

The guy gave him some friendly trash talk in return and was gone. It had helped, having something to talk about – but the ride? It had taken forty minutes not twenty. Mike shook off his frustration and soreness as he walked into the hotel; tired from hours of sitting, anticipation, and…yeah, some nerves.

He couldn’t wait to see Harvey: Kind of wanted to surprise him, but…there was one problem, he thought, as he stood in the lobby, staring at the double elevator banks.

He thought about asking at the front desk; he so wanted to see Harvey’s face when the door opened. But then he sighed, and pulled out his phone. 

-*-

“I need to pee,” Scottie seemed to be saying it to the bottom of her rock glass of scotch. “Any objection if I use your powder room?”

Harvey shook his head, from the very far edge of the farthest cushion of the sofa.

“And then…. as much fun as this hasn’t been,” he got up, walking toward the kitchenette fists in his pockets as she did too. “I need to get on with my evening. Understood?”

“Maybe we could go grab a …” Scottie stopped in mid-step and mid-sentence, eyes going dark at how much ‘are you shitting me?’ was on his face. “Never mind.”

Harvey picked up his phone and watched her go, empty glass still in hand. 

She’d had a refill as they talked - wasn’t drunk, but shouldn’t be driving either. He sighed and set up an Uber for her on his credit card – was about to put the phone back down when it rang in his hand. 

“Mike?”

“Finally. You’re answering. I was afraid….I thought it was maybe only gonna ring again.”

“I’m sorry I missed you this afternoon. What’s up? Are you still at the office this late?”

“No. I’m…. what’s your room number, Harvey?”

He started to answer, then stopped – felt the way he was biting his cheek, somewhere between confused and holding off the illogical hope that maybe…

“It’s fifteen twenty three. Why?”

“’Cause I’m on my way up.”

Even Harvey was surprised at the sound those words drew from him; something between a gasp and a ‘fuck, no, baby boy, how are you so clever?’ He heard Mike’s soft, almost silent laugh in return and felt his own heart ache.

A minute ago he thought he wouldn’t see him for….so long. Now the elevator ride felt too long.

“Get your ass up here,” Harvey said.

“Yeah, I’m ….coming up. I’m getting on the elevator, I might …lose you…”

“No way in hell you’ll ever lose me.”

“What did you…” There was a crackle – an electronic snap. “….say? Sorry…breaking…”

And Mike was gone. 

Harvey glanced toward the bedroom door, and the bathroom beyond….and wished there were a fire escape on the other side he could make her climb out of.


	6. Fireworks

Mike might have spotted faster that Harvey wasn’t alone, if it weren’t for the expression on his face. It was one Mike had come to think of as ‘I can’t believe you’re here, I can’t believe we are an _us_.’

It was most distracting; a sad-happy look that tended to made Mike's breath catch and most other details of any given room retreat.

“How did you do it?” Harvey pulled him into the room by a forearm; turned to face him as it shut, arms going around his waist. “How did you resolve Monday morning?”

“Can I tell you over dinner? I’m so beat...” Mike reached in to kiss him light and quick, setting his carry-on a step away from them and dropping his folded jacket over it. “I need a shower, and food. Real food.”

“Of course,” Harvey tugged him in closer, his head dipping down.

Mike closed his eyes and relaxed into him; felt Harvey kiss his mouth and then all along his cheek, his neck - up and down, across and up the other side.

It was sweet relief after the last few hours; smelling the traces of Harvey's cologne, his shirt un-tucked and a third undone like he'd been heading for the shower, maybe. Mike focused on the sensations of deep, warm kisses being pressed onto his skin, then a flick of tongue in his ear and a nip at the lobe that sent a wave of ‘ _fuck, I want’_ running through him.

He detached enough to gaze up at him and give Harvey a stare; one with a fast narrowing of his eyes and a glance toward the bedroom.

“Look at you..." Harvey breathed the words out. "Can’t wait until I have you to myself."

“Don’t you? Have me….to….” Mike stepped back far enough this time that Harvey’s arms fell away, and he saw them: A purse on the table in the hall, high heels by the sofa, a tiny, nappy grey and pink suit jacket over the back of it.

And even though it made absolutely zero sense, he knew exactly who owned it all.

“Oh …my…..” Mike started.

The sound of a toilet flushing deep in the back of Harvey’s room interrupted the thought. Mike burst out laughing, and it came out a touch maniacal. Then his heart fell.

“Please….” Harvey was still right there, but he sounded so far away. “I need you to believe me: Nothing’s going on."

“Yeah,” Mike made himself return Harvey's gaze; made himself, because he felt how he was going red-eyed with stress and frustration and _don’t lose it in front of them_. “You wouldn’t, not like this. Not without telling me first, right?”

Harvey looked annoyed and maybe mildly insulted, but he didn't have time to respond because there she was padding barefoot across to the room like she owned it. Mike tried not to say anything to her, really he tried but…

“So _fast_ …” Mike sniped; relieved his voice held steady and stayed even. “Can’t spare five seconds to wash your hands? You dirty… _filthy_... piss-poor _loser_.”

“Woah,” he heard Harvey mumble – not angry. Surprised, maybe, at how close Mike had come to barking it at her.

“Hi, Mike,” Scottie was making a distinct point of setting her rock glass on the counter with fingers all angled in an ‘I’m out of here’ way. “'Bye, Mike.”

“Don’t you work about eight _thousand_ miles away?”

“Hey….” Harvey leaned in, giving him a long, low ‘shhhh’ in his left ear but Mike felt himself shrugging away from him and falling back half a step.

“He didn’t tell you?” Scottie slid into her heels, one then the other, an eyebrow arching; Mike could barely see much more than her head behind Harvey’s shoulder, bobbing upward as she gained five inches in height. “I’m stateside again. Huh. I wonder what else he hasn’t told you?”

He had no idea he was on the verge of going _at_ her, until he felt the heels of Harvey's hands on his collar bones; Harvey's fingers digging in at his shoulders to hold him in place.

“You should leave,” Mike heard Harvey turn his head back to tell her. “Now.”

“Or you’ll do what?” Scottie slid on her jacket, taking multiple seconds to button that one huge goddamned ivory button.

Such a dose of self-satisfied in there: So much ‘screw you both’ in those four words.

“ _I_ won’t do anything,” Harvey’s voice came out extra smooth. “But I’ll let him go before you’re in the elevator. And you really want to be in the elevator when I let him go.”

Mike had to respect how fast she could move in those shoes. If their roles were reversed, he had no doubt he’d end up flat out on the hallway carpet, ten yards short of escape with a high heel through his neck.

-*- 

“My eyes are up here,” He heard Harvey say.

It shook him out of his reverie; made him realize she was gone but he was still agitated with his gaze on the floor and his mind churning. How long had it been? Three seconds? Five?

“You think I’m an idiot," Mike said, a nod at how Harvey was looking at him; smiling, but bemused. "Or that I don’t trust you. But it’s not that simple.”

“Not going to lie,” Harvey drawled. “There have been times I thought you were an idiot but they were always about work. You’re way better at this stuff than I am. Generally speaking.”

And okay, that got something closer to a weary chuckle out of him. Mike stood taller, stepping forward, asking silently to be held again.

It felt so good when he got it; Harvey’s arms wrapping around him until the two of them were pressed together, a palm warm against his lower back.

“Please….” Mike breathed out. “Don’t let this ruin our day and a half together?”

“Funny,” He felt Harvey squeezing him tighter. “I thought the same thing.”

"I was talking to myself," Mike said; detaching, picking up his stuff, headed for the bedroom.

"Hey," Harvey didn't move; said it kindly enough, but with an edge of his dom voice in there, waiting for Mike to stop and then pointing at the spot Mike had just vacated - where he'd been standing when she left. "That? It wasn't really about her at all."

"Oh, it was. She said she'd be gunning for you and here she is out of frigging nowhere, Harvey. So...yeah..." Mike shook his head, refuting the point - shooting Harvey some more heat with his eyes, but this time not an invitation. "Look can we not talk about it right now? Can we maybe just....be _together_ for a damn minute?"

"Would an angry fuck help?" Harvey asked, following him in.

"Well, I'm the one who's angry but I never get to ‘drive,’ so... I don't see how that's possible."

"It's entirely possible. You could ride me hard," Harvey offered; hands on his own hips, eyes all over Mike with a look that said he was assessing the possibilities and liking the idea of some of them. "We can blur the line between screwing and fighting. I'll let you; you can take out your frustrations on me. As long as you don't _break_ it or _sprain_ it, 'cause …neither of us wants that, I’m sure.”

Mike knew why Harvey had said it all so lightly; his voice a tease, almost a lilt in there. It was so they could laugh it off if Mike preferred to. Which he did not.

"Shit," He launched himself at Harvey; head darting in to kiss him hard and deep - pushing them both back a step.

Turned out, the offer tendered was good: Harvey was letting him go _at_ him - kissing him back languidly, jaw loose, humming at Mike's deep sucks and tongue thrusts. He swallowed a grunt of surprise when the kiss turned biting, accepting the hand reaching to hold his head where Mike wanted it.

The whole time, Harvey's own hands were wandering; up and down his back, his sides. They slid to Mike's ass, Harvey rubbing cocks through their clothes until Mike was groaning and humming, too.

"Mmmngh…fu _uuc_ k," Mike pulled away when he felt Harvey jump almost onto his toes; he’d bit harder than planned and tasted the tang of blood.

"It's okay," Harvey let Mike tweak at his lower lip with a thumb, folding it back to examine the spot.

"I didn't mean to...." Mike winced on his behalf at the size of the jagged cut and the lump it was rapidly swelling into.

Thankfully it wasn’t deep - was sealing up, but visibly promising to also turn red and purple, to plump and ache like a bitch for far longer than Mike was going to be in town.

"It's all right," Harvey batted his hand away lightly; grabbed Mike’s wrist on its way down, heading them toward the bed. "You want to let go on me? C'mon..."

-*-

The hotel shower was one of those big glass boxes with scratchy pumice flooring and a rainforest faucet in the ceiling. Harvey entering to join him as Mike rinsed off the last of the shampoo pulled along some cool air, too.

"Gave you a chill? Sorry…" Harvey traced a finger down Mike’s spine at the shiver visibly going through him, reaching around for the soap.

"It's okay," Mike stepped back; urged Harvey in closer, more fully under the water. "I'm good."

"I’ve known that for a long time. Turns out you can be a little bad, too."

I have...really mixed feelings about this,” Mike absently traced fingertips over one of the marks he’d left on Harvey’s collarbone. “And this....and …”

He let them wander with the water drops, counting: five, six…down his chest, seven over a hipbone… eight, nine on his thigh. Jesus.

"Why?" Harvey got busy with the soap, giving Mike a wink. "I enjoyed your tiger impersonation.”

"Impersi-what, now? I had you down for the _count_ at one point.”

"Maybe a standing-eight, but...not a ten. By the way... you did nothing wrong. You didn't even do anything I didn't enjoy. When we play hard, I leave welts and bruises sometimes. You never complain."

"That's different."

"How?"

"When we play there are rules. And reasons. We’re in our roles. This was me venting; marking my territory. I'm not sure that's okay."

"You _did_ do that," Harvey conceded, setting the soap back on the shelf, letting the water run over them both some more. "But … no one’s a perfect picture of flawless motives and right thinking. If they are? They’re probably a nightmare.”

"We could order the food in,” Mike offered, hitting the taps off.

It was getting late.

"I don’t think that’ll do,” Harvey fished behind him for a towel from the rack, handing it to him. "Young tigers need meat. Let's get you something to sink your teeth into. I mean… other than me."

"I won’t hear the end of this. Will I?" 

"We can use it as a code. If the urge hits me, and we’re in public? I’ll ask you if Tony can come out and play later."

"Enough, Harvey..."

Mike headed for the bedroom - and felt a quick slap on the last piece out of the shower in reply.

-*-

“Is there some place nearby to get a run or a bike ride in?” Mike fiddled with his scotch, looking over the menu. "It’d be great to get outdoors tomorrow.”

“We should find a beach house to rent,” Harvey suggested. “No reason we have to stay right here.”

They'd gotten Harvey's car from the valet; drove to a French bistro he’d found nearby for business meetings, one that managed to feel both chic and like the long-time neighborhood place it was. There were tables and booths - even a corner booth well back from the crowd noise where they could sit on either side of the curve and be close.

“That sounds amazing. I love a beach.”

“Yeah?” Harvey sounded more than a little surprised.

“You don’t know everything about me yet,” Mike said. “Plenty left to learn before you’re bored with my ass.”

What the hell? Passive _aggressive_ , much? Mike hadn’t even realized he was going to say it until it was out.

He kept his eyes resolutely down as if still deciding what to order, but he felt it; Harvey shifting in his seat. Could almost feel him formulating his next words, picking them carefully.

“You were right, what you said at the airport. It _was_ shitty timing me having to leave town the way I did,” Harvey took his hand and tucked them both low, between them on the seat; ran a thumb from Mike’s knuckles to his wrist. “But even before I left… I’d felt it. You still have deep doubts about us, don’t you? That's what all this has been about – all the nights, lately, when it’s felt like we’re hitting the gas and brakes at the same time?”

Oh, crap…. he knew: Harvey not only knew, he put it into words in a way Mike hadn’t come close to doing, himself.

What was there to do but tell him?

“I know you didn’t mean to, but… you made me feel disposable, Harvey. I thought that I was past it. But it might have been mostly wishful thinking on my part.”

“ _Mostly_?”

One word, but the way Harvey asked? Like it was the last thing he expected to hear.

Like he’d frightened him. 

“Yeah….” It would be so easy to back off the word – he wanted to. But isn’t that what he’d been doing? “Mostly.”

“Mike…”

“I can’t _believ_ e this," Mike tugged his hand free; felt frustration building again – and a blind anger at someone not even in the room. "If she hadn’t fucking… _turned up_? None of this would have come out tonight.”

“Maybe not,” Harvey reached, cupping Mike’s temple with a hand. “But it’d still be up here, wouldn’t it? And here?”

He traced the rough shape of a heart on Mike’s shirt.

And there was that look again: The one he’d seen when he first walked into Harvey’s room. But this time, there was nothing happy in it.

“Are you trying to break me down?” Mike felt tears picking at his eyelids; for a second he briefly entertained thoughts of getting up and heading for the men’s. “It’s dinner, you know that, right? Not a deposition. For one night…can you _not_ press where it hurts?”

He half expected Harvey to come back at him with more words; was relieved when he simply dropped in to bump foreheads, and then to press a kiss to the spot he’d bumped.

“What are you ordering?” Harvey didn’t miss a beat; sat back, picking up his menu. “I’ll get us a bottle of wine if you tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking it’s eleven at night to my body clock,” Mike slumped in his seat. “I’ve also worked all day, flown to the opposite side of a continent, and gotten well and thoroughly fucked so…. I may not know what I’m ordering until the waiter actually.... asks. And once I eat? I may face plant. That's what I'm thinking.”

“No problem. I'll haul you to the car over my back, if you do,” Harvey offered.

The image of that pulled an actual grin and a snort out of him out of freaking nowhere, which made Harvey’s eyes light up if only a little.

Mike hoped it was the one memory he’d keep of this hour. Of this day.

-*-

They dropped onto the mattress at the same time, Harvey hitting the bedside light switch.

Mike got under the sheet and slid around, twisting around to see what felt most comfortable, watching Harvey on his back with one sweat-panted leg out in an archer position. 

“It’s only nine fifty,” Mike said.

Harvey made a huffing sound that said he got it: Sometimes, back home, they weren’t even done work yet.

“This mattress….sucks,” Harvey noted.

“It’s okay. It might be better, though, if you did the big-spoon thing.”

“You want me to?” Harvey asked, but he was already moving, rolling his way.

“Pretty sure it was my idea. Yes.”

“Okay….all right. There….”

It was amazing how much more comfortable the bed got; Harvey pressed to his back with an arm over him, perfectly balanced against each other, the sheet like a cocoon around him.

After that, for Mike there was almost no transition from awake to asleep; no ruminating or worry. There was only oblivion.

-*-

Harvey did not drift off. He couldn't. He waited until Mike’s breathing was low and even, then rolled out of bed.

He thought about searching up the bottle of scotch he’d opened when Scottie arrived, but got a glass of water, instead, and sat on the bedroom chair watching Mike sleep. 

“ _Mostly_ …” Harvey said it under his breath, shaking his head and taking another sip. “I never wanted to hurt you. And I sure as hell don’t want to get hurt, either. Maybe we made a mistake ever trying? But…. we did try, and I can't lose you or nothing else I have really matters, so....how do I fix this?”

_You don't. Because you can't._

The realization was so surprising that Harvey sat bolt upright in the chair.

The idea of his life being of his control was almost incomprehensible. But there it was in front of his eyes, in the shape of a softly snoring, beautiful blue-eyed boy: It was all up to Mike, to tell him what he needed and what would make them better. And if he couldn’t? If he never got to a place where he truly trusted Harvey again?

_We'll be broken. Done._

He would have turned cold inside at the thought, a couple of relationships ago: Would have pulled away as fast as possible to protect himself. Now, it only made him feel as tired, scared and as much on the verge of tearing-up as Mike had looked over dinner.

Harvey downed the last of the water and left the glass on the floor by the chair. He walked to the kitchenette and found his laptop – did several quick searches on his credit card’s travel site and found and booked their Saturday beach house.

Then he went back to bed and slid in carefully; getting under the sheet and weaving an arm under Mike, setting one gingerly back over him.

"Please tell me how we fix this…." He pulled him close, and Mike sighed deeply; very much out, but as if the words had registered, maybe. "Tell me there's a way. I'll do anything."

And then Harvey did his level best to empty his mind, because he _had_ to sleep: He had a job to do tomorrow. Whether they survived, or crashed and burned? He was giving Mike one perfect day and night at the beach.


	7. Avalon

Mike only knew how exhausted he'd been by the way he woke up: Gradually, eyes falling closed more than once before he could keep them open.

Apparently he wasn't the only one. It had to be after eight and Harvey was still out, sprawled on his back with an arm up over his head. Mike watched his even breathing, counting the bruises he'd been allowed to leave on Harvey's skin the evening before.

Harvey had been flat out, then, too; his back arching, heels digging into the bed as Mike rode him. He'd pushed up to meet every one of Mike's downward thrusts; matching his timing to fuck him deepest, a hand braced against Mike's shoulder, the other grabbing a fist-full of the bed sheet next to him.

He'd caught Harvey watching him as he dropped in, picking new spots to adorn with his teeth and mouth, Harvey’s eyes dark, narrow slits intently focused on him.

Mike dozed off again, half hard from the memories; woke to Harvey alert and up on a hip, fingertips ghosting over Mike's chest and arms to rouse him.

"Uhmmmmnnn..." Mike turned toward him. "Any chance you’re ready for more?”

"I could be…." Harvey's hand stopped tracing to reach down; to lightly clasp Mike's most-definitely ready cock, to give it a squeeze and thumb brushes. "But I'd rather wait and play later. Can I tie you down and have you where I want you tonight?

Harvey pushed up and swung over him, on his knees and wrists.

“Yes,” Mike accepted Harvey ducking in to kiss him; light, quick presses to his mouth, his cheek and neck. “But if you don't mind... I'm taking care of _this_ in the shower. Any objections?"

"None. No rules this weekend," Harvey didn't stop, though; was working his way down to kiss collarbone and chest. "And I’ll be happy to help you with it, if you’d like? You don’t even have to move…”

"Oh, God, yeah...."

Thank Fate, Mike thought, that Harvey wasn’t sparing with the blow jobs; seemed to find it his toply duty to eat him frigging _alive_ when he gave them, and for that he would never complai….

“Oh….shit _yesss_ ….oh….” Mike’s knees bent, legs going back and opening wide at the first fat, wet tongue stroke up the length of his dick, complete with tongue swirls and slaps at the head, a big hand cupping his balls with the lightest of squeezes.

Mike lifted his hips to let Harvey maneuver a pillow under his ass; Harvey crawling in close and sucking him down, head bobbing double-time, taking him to flared, leaking and aching in under a minute.

And then it all stopped, so suddenly it pulled a low, frustrated sound out of Mike.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

Harvey had knelt up, looking like something dawned on him.

“Did you bring a vibe?”

“In my bag…” Mike waved at the wall by the door. “Back flap, in the netting…”

"Your new one,” Harvey sounded pleased, seeing his present to him lying there - was back in seconds, grabbing the bottle of lube still on the nightstand. “I guess you really liked it?”

“You know I did."

He’d had it on the brain since Wednesday; the idea of Harvey driving it with his own hand and not the remote.

“Up…more…” Harvey had another pillow under him, bent almost in half at an angle that made Mike giggle under his breath - very exposed and vaguely embarrassed.

“Gonna make me lose my mind?" Mike asked; felt his face flush at how tentative it came out, arm going over his own eyes like that would help hide it. "Gonna try to make me scream?"

Harvey didn't deign to respond. He seemed to have an unexpectedly gentle change of plan, though; slowing things down with slicked fingers followed by soft, shallow sucks as the vibe slid in and his fingers out.

It was like a dance from there - the toy switching ‘on’ making Mike groan and twist and start to push, Harvey reading his breathing and body tension, moving with him, over him. He reached a hand to hold Mike down at the chest right as the combination of teasing, velvety mouth and sweet, buzzing vibe lit Mike up so much he wanted to ... _had_ to push harder and…

“Shit don’t ...stop... okay? Please don’t stop or…ohhh … _fuck_!....”

He was done with words; felt Harvey humming an encouraging sound around him, fucking him faster with the toy, tilting it back, pressing in and….

Body slam, hard on the mat; electrofrigging _cution_ by orgasm right behind it - Mike knew he was babbling very loudly, and gave not one shit because …wow…Harvey, “ _deep-throating is over-rated_ ” was swallowing around him again and again, and…

"Holyfuckinghell...." he said between gasps; shaking lightly, feeling de-boned.

Harvey was urging him over, getting rid of the pillows, sliding behind him.

“You look wrecked," Harvey said. "Been a while; nice to see that.”

"Your voice..." Mike melted into him, still catching his breath but now cackling at the same time.

"What about it?"

"S’scratchy. Sounds hot."

"Shut up,” Harvey was divesting him of the toy, an arm going around him to put a palm on his chest and feel his heart pounding.

“Say something. Anything. Say ‘Four score and seven years ago…”

“Fuck. You. Smartass. How’s that?”

Harvey was kissing the top of his head, though - and so warm behind him, Mike could easily have drifted back off.

“You’re going to kill me with that vibe someday, aren’t you? You’re going to tie me to the bed and make me beg until I’m dead, and…”

"Why spend the present…” Harvey asked him - voice still scratchy but now also full of honey. “…worrying about the future?”

-*-

"Anything else you want out of today?" Harvey offered, opening the shower and hitting the taps on as Mike searched up his toothbrush. "Special requests for our limited time together?"

"Yeah," Mike knew the answer immediately, but it took a second to formulate how to say it. He looked from the mirror and over to him. "I don't want to talk about it."

"As in?"

"You possibly being stuck here longer than another week. My trust issues. Whether we can get us back on track. So... pretty much all of it. Any of it."

"Are you sure?" Harvey stepped in; swung the glass door shut enough to keep the water off the floor but still open a crack so they could talk easily. "Can you enjoy today if we don't? Can you not make mean digs at either yourself or at me?"

"Yes," Mike said around his toothbrush. "I swear."

"Good," Harvey ducked his head around; looked happy at the answer. "I got us a place for tonight - and it's right on the water. You're going to love it."

"When did you do that?"

"After you fell asleep. Don't worry," he was 'gone' again, behind the tinted glass. "I was out pretty quickly after that.”

Mike wasn't buying it; that would explain why Harvey had been sleeping at this advanced hour, if he'd had a rough night. But he decided to let it go - a step toward sticking to their agreement.

-*-

"Did you know there’s a fourteen-year backlog if you want to own a car? I mean, if you actually lived here part-time and wanted a car...that's how long it takes."

"I did not know that," he heard Harvey say absently; felt an arm going around him, a hand squeezing his far hip as they stood leaning on the rail of the ferry that was slowly taking them toward Catalina Island.

"We don't have to take a taxi to the rental if we don't want to," Mike pointed at the brochure he was reading, one he'd grabbed as they walked on board. "There are golf carts you can reserve. Like...for your whole stay. And bikes. We could rent bikes."

"Fine with me, but wouldn't you rather get there faster? It's almost noon."

"Yeah. Good point.”

"Hey... Mike, look here...."

He turned his eyes from the brochure and up at Harvey - to see Harvey's phone aimed at him.

"I'm deleting that picture," he promised, making a face a beat too late.

"Not without my passcode, you're not," Harvey was grinning, very pleased with himself as he stepped away enough to focus on pulling up the image. “Besides.... you really shouldn't. Look."

It was a decent picture, Mike had to admit: barely an hour long drive to the boat terminal in Harvey's rental convertible, but he already had some color on his face and wind-ruffled hair. Still, the urge to say something tart, something like 'how many other people you got on that photo roll?' It was right there on the edge of his tongue.

He chose to only shrug, and hoped the tone of his thoughts hadn't registered on his face.

"You never told me," Harvey changed the subject, putting away the phone and leaning on the rail, watching the water churning below them against the hull of the boat "Last night, we never got back around to how you managed to get here?"

"Louis shifted some things around on Monday; said to be to be back on time or else I'll face his undying wrath."

"Why do you suppose he did that for you?" Harvey slid his arm back around him, and it felt so good- to simply be together and stand close without wondering who might be watching.

"I think he could see I needed time with you."

"So ....he knows about us?"

"Nothing specific, unless you've told him. But remember that awful Thursday we don't discuss?"

"Yep."

"He talked me down from going after you that day, and part-way in...I think he realized why he didn't have to explain your dom habit to me."

"Ah," Harvey seemed to take it very well - no crease of concern on his forehead. "That makes it Louis, Jessica, Donna, and Rachel, now. We're becoming the worst-kept secret in Midtown."

"Have you told them about me?" Mike asked. "The team you're working with here?"

"The associate, I barely ever see. He's running interference with our client and their lawyers. As for Elisa..."

"Elisa?"

"I mentioned to her that there's someone, but I didn't say who. Don't look at me that way."

"I'm not looking at you in a way."

"Yeah, you are.”

"What's she like?"

"Smart, funny... pretty," Harvey shrugged. "You'd get along well, I think."

"Pretty?" Mike gave half a backward wave, suggesting how hard he'd just bumped on that word.

"What?"

"Such a delicate word from you," Mike tried not to show how much it had amused him; to sound perturbed instead. " _Pretty_?"

"What's the matter with describing someone as...."

"It’s you trying not to piss me off. Just say it… is she fucking hot or isn't she?"

"Oh for cripe's....."

"Answer the question posed, counselor," Mike barely pulled that one off; almost lost it at the visible struggle between diplomacy and honesty in front of him.

"All right...she's hot. But...."

"So you're working closely with a hot, smart, funny woman who barely knows I exist and I shouldn't be jealous why?"

"Look, Mike.... you have to stop this. She's a professional. Yes, she's also a rare bright spot in this dismal month I'm spending in exile but that doesn't mean..."

"Harvey?"

"Yes?"

"I think we should start seeing other people."

The speed with which Harvey's face went from bemusement to 'I am going to fucking strangle you with one hand' was a thing of beauty.

Mike snorted with laughter, right before Harvey started chuckling too - softly, under his breath, sounds of deeply annoyed, frustrated mirth. He leaned in at Mike, arms going around either side of him on the rail, biting his own lower lip like he might just throw him over the side, if it weren't such a long fall and the water so deep.

"Okay, okay...." Mike said a little too loudly; felt that look going through him. “I know… I promised. It wasn't a dig, I swear - it just....came out.”

"Cheeky boy," Harvey pressed against him, rolled his hips to make them rub together for a delicious second, eyes all over his face.

"Let go of me. People are staring."

"So what?" Harvey didn't budge; not his body, not his gaze.

Mike stared right back, still muffling some residual laughter, loving the smolder being aimed at him; Harvey enjoying the sound of him happy and a little goofy and ... it felt like the first time all weekend they'd really, truly seen each other.

It felt fantastic.

-*-

"Oh...wow...sweet…."

Mike walked through their rental. He'd expected 'shabby chic beach bungalow,' not an extra sleek home perched on a hill hanging over the ocean. It had shining dark wood floors, a huge kitchen, overstuffed sofa that filled the living room and was about the only thing in it.

There were floor-to-ceiling doors on the far wall opening onto a 180-degree balcony. The doors were varnished oak with white curtains, each cloth streaming down and out over the floor.

The landlord left two of the doors open on this sunny day, the drapes doing a billowing dance along the wood. Mike walked through them, and couldn't help his mouth popping open: No neighbors - not left, not right - only ocean all the way to the horizon, brilliant, deep blue.

"This is good," Harvey had brought their things to the bedroom; was joining him, standing behind him, arms loose around Mike as they took it all in. "Every bit as nice as it looked on the web site. You never know, do you?"

"Have you thought about getting licensed to practice in California?" Mike asked.

"Oh, sure, it's gorgeous," Harvey waved generally at the scene before them. "But it's lacking any filthy, crowded sidewalks or pissed-off commuters. No honking horns? No dirty-water hotdog carts? You'd be homesick in a hurry."

Mike had to nod in acknowledgment. But then something caught his eye, way down at the foot of the cliff below them.

"Beach!" Mike pointed. “And no one on it."

"It's a hell of a hike down the hill. Sure you don't want to go walk around town, first?"

"Nope," Mike was on his way to the bedroom to change into lighter clothes by the time Harvey got the question out. "Beach. Now. Damn, look at those waves!"

-*-

"Did you get to the ocean much as a kid?" Mike took Harvey's hand and led him closer to where the surf was breaking.

They both had bare ankles; Mike in long shorts and Harvey with linen pants rolled to his knees.

"Not really. We had a neighborhood pool. That was our summer,” Harvey let himself be dragged, though he had one eye on the rolling water and his body language said he'd be happier a few yards from the sea foam. "My mother would take us, and read books all afternoon."

"Oh, God...you and Marcus played 'Marco Polo' and pulled the girls' pigtails, didn't you?"

"Marcus was the hair puller. I preferred untying bikini tops and snapping waistbands."

"You beast,” Mike intoned. “Even then….”

“Stop it.”

This stretch of sand was mostly empty because it was so residential; Mike could see a pier and more public places a good way out. The surf was rolling; low booms, too muddy for boogie boarding making the air around them smell rich, salty and humid.

"When did _you_ spend time at the beach?" Harvey asked him, and his voice sounded further away than it should have in the heavy air.

"I see. You think the poor orphan kid never got his toes in the sand."

"I didn't say that. But I'm having a hard time picturing Edith planting an umbrella and holding court from a folding chair for hours."

"She had friends on Long Island, and we visited once a summer,” Mike jumped as a wave rolled in high and splashed the edge of his shorts; Harvey was soaked to the knees, now, and seemed more relaxed – resigned to it. "Have you taken walks on the beach with any oth...."

Mike cut the question off, realizing he'd asked something he didn't want the answer to.

"A couple of years ago. Jersey Shore, long weekend. Scottie drank too much tequila at the concert, and had a bad Saturday night. She slept most of the way home in the car and...well, it wasn't much to write home about, really."

"How did she end up here this weekend?" Mike steered them back up the sand half a dozen steps as an even bigger wave broke. "There's another thing we never talked about last night."

"In town for a conference. A mutual friend mentioned he saw me, and she knows which hotel our firm uses here, so....I opened the door, and there she stood."

"What did she mean? When she said she wondered what else you hadn't told me?"

"I thought you didn't want to talk about things?"

"I don't, but …now that we are, what did she mean?"

"When she moved back stateside..." Harvey looked like he was considering how much to say and how to put it. "She called me and asked if we could stay in touch - as colleagues and old friends."

The sun ducked behind the only cloud near it. To Mike’s eyes, the whole beach dimmed, the water turning grey.

“You told her yes, didn’t you?”

"I told her yes, as long as you were involved every step.”

“How the hell would that even work?”

“I said if we have lunch and catch up, then it's the three of us and whoever she wants to bring along. If she emails me, she cc's you. If she calls me, I tell you what we discussed.”

The sun returned - slicing back over the sand like a broad stroke of yellow paint, the world in color again.

"Bet that went over well."

"I've never heard her voice that close to supersonic," Harvey said it with a note of genuine amazement.

"I should enjoy imagining that, but it feels….mean of me."

"Oh, it's all right - you can. It _was_ funny. And it’s her problem, not yours."

Something about the glint in Harvey's eyes made Mike stop walking and reach up to kiss him.

"I wish it could be like this all the time," Mike said. "Just us: No one and nothing in our way."

"I'm no expert," Harvey started them walking, again. "But I think the trick is to get to a place where we always feel that way... no matter what’s happening or who is around. Isn’t it?”

They walked until they found a beach bar and stopped for beer and appetizers. A kiosk next door offered kayaks for rent and beach toys for sale; Mike spotted a floatable football - the perfect thing to toss back and forth, to add entertainment to the way back.

By the time they made it there, the sun was halfway to the horizon and it was hot; enough that a quick swim, then wine from the shop down the street and ordering in sounded like the right amount of non-effort for the rest of the day.

-*-

“Such a tease,” Mike heard him say.

Harvey was leaning against the rental’s tiny porcelain bathroom sink in his pajama bottoms, Mike’s collar in one hand, waiting for him to get out of the shower.

Mike had heard him come in - then saw him there, briefly flashing a cheesy, exaggerated grin and waving the collar when Mike flipped the curtain open. At the moment, though, he was turned away from Harvey - vigorously sawing a fluffy bath towel left and right along his shoulders and back, ass, thighs, ass again, back once more, shoulders….

“I’m detailing,” Mike turned his head, only, to give him a ‘you should appreciate the effort’ look. “I had sand in …. places. How does it get _everywhere_?”

Harvey had showered up right after their walk, while Mike was scanning through delivery menus and ordering for them. They’d had their meal at the little two-seat table on the far end of the patio, and then pulled their chairs parallel to watch the sun set and the sky turn black, Mike sliding away to the bath when Harvey took in their dishes.

“There,” Mike tossed the towel on the tub floor and stepped out, arms wide. “I’m all yours.”

“Lucky me,” Harvey slid the collar around his neck, fastening the hook.

“Sorry I wasn’t wearing it when I got here,” Mike fingered it as he did - felt the need to explain, but Harvey interrupted with a shoulder squeeze.

“Don’t be. You wear it when you want, and when you don’t want to…don’t.”

“I was afraid that even with pre-check, I’d have to take it off for security. I’m not that brazen yet, I guess.”

“Don’t worry,” Harvey pulled him in by the loop of it, closing the step and a half of distance between them and giving him a quick but messy kiss. “C’mon…see what I found…”

It was very confusing when Harvey marched him, naked, past the turn for the bedroom and back through the living room.

“What the hell?” Mike stopped flat at the patio doors, at the even more confusing sight.

Harvey had obviously spotted a trundle mattress either in the master bed or the spare room. It just fit on the deck; filling the width of it and half the length, a sheet on it and two pillows awaiting.

“Not being shy, are you?” Harvey asked, stepping out there and offering his hand. “It’s just us.”

“This…feels so weird…” Mike sniggered as he stepped out and onto the mattress, too; feeling the warm breeze everywhere, all over his skin, every inch. “So weird.”

“Never fucked outside?” Harvey was giving him a minute to acclimate; kissing his forehead, his temple, hands tracing his arms, his sides, sliding to his ass cheeks to hold and squeeze them.

“Yeah, but… the once. And it was way more furtive than this,” Mike let himself focus on Harvey’s touch. “What are we doing, Harvey?”

“Nothing fancy. I seem to remember on the phone, you saying something about your dom not fucking you hard or long enough. Thought I’d take care of that….”

“It was a tease, Harvey. And I definitely didn’t say _long_ ,” Mike countered, letting Harvey pull him a couple of steps toward the table where they’d eaten.

“Maybe I only imagined that part,” Harvey was biting back a smile that said he knew he’d been caught embellishing. “Anyway… objections? Deal breakers? I said no rules, so…”

The bondage tape Mike had packed lay on the table, next to two of the toys he’d brought.

“No, sir,” Mike asked, extending his crossed wrists when Harvey gestured at them, the top one palm-side-up the way Harvey liked, watching him bind them tight and loop the tape up all the way over his thumbs. “No objections. Told you… I’m all yours.”

The shorter gold chain got slid through his collar loop first; Harvey leaning in to kiss and suck each nipple before he applied the alligator clips. Thankfully neither one was set too tight. Then the longer chain – the tiny, locking cuff at the end clicking shut around his ball sack, the weight it held dragging sweetly, sadly down on him.

“So beautiful…” Harvey told him as he helped Mike to his knees. “You are, you know?”

On the plus side Harvey indulged Mike’s love of all things oral by feeding him his dick and balls for longer than he’d hoped, so there was pleasure along with the pain of the chains being tugged. More surprisingly, they came off once Harvey was ready for the main act.

The best part? The screwing he got _was_ long, entirely at Harvey’s pace and pleasure, but it was no pounding. Instead it was almost hypnotic; Mike on his side, at first, with Harvey behind him, holding him – then Harvey over him, putting him in different positions, taking him at different angles, stroking him, pushing him into the thin mattress.

No words were spoken; not when Mike came from the friction and the cock up his ass, not when Mike’s sounds sent Harvey over the edge, too- made him get rougher those last few seconds, Mike enveloped under him in a frog position, ass-up, chest and belly to the floor.

It could have felt like being used but never did. It felt like being claimed.

“Look…out there,” Harvey cupped a hand around Mike’s forehead as they came to a stop; tugged his head back until his eyes were on the ocean. “Look at that.”

A fat slice of half moon sat on the horizon, throwing a beam of bright white over the waves. It looked like they went on forever – column after a column, a rolling force of nature that felt ten times bigger and more dangerous in the deep dark.

“They look like they’re coming to get us,” Mike murmured, shivering.

“No, they’re not.” Harvey reached to start undoing his hands. “They’re our night music.”

-*-

They did fall asleep right there, but at some point it got noticeably cooler; Mike had a vague recollection of being coaxed, still mostly asleep, to the bedroom.

The ocean roar, the stumbling, twilight walk, curling up against Harvey in yet another unfamiliar bed: It made the whole thing feel like a strange dream. Then it was dawn, and Mike knew he was alone; heard Harvey in the other room, headed his way.

“Where did you go?” Mike pulled himself up to sitting against the headboard.

“To get us packed. I thought we could catch the first ferry; drive the coast before we head to the airport. Sound good?”

“A drive and a talk?”

“Yeah,” Harvey said, leaning on the bedroom door, watching him with the slightest hint of a soft smile, his voice low. "And a talk.”

It was another perfect day. They kept the top down for most of it, Harvey taking them along the Pacific Coast Highway, finding places to stop and enjoy the views, to grab lunch and then dinner. It was back up now, though; the windows, too, the air-conditioning on as they made the slow crawl to the airport through Sunday-evening traffic.

It looked like it might rain.

"Should I start? Or will you?" Harvey asked.

"You have a 'start' in mind?" Mike heard an edge in his own voice, already.

"I have some ...thoughts, I guess, on why you're suddenly so unsure about us. But I'd rather you tell me what you're thinking."

"You wanted to fuck other people! That's what I'm thinking."

Oh, God, he'd blurted it; sharply, too, full of 'what the hell’s confusing to you?'

"That’s not it." Harvey said after a long pause, his voice measured but weary. "Think about it, and … let's try again, maybe?"

" _Excuse_ me?" Mike turned toward him in surprise; as much as the seatbelts would allow.

"Look, I'm not saying...."

"What about that _isn't_ reason enough? Are you accusing me of beating you up with it?"

"No, I'm saying I think it’s not that simple. You were good for weeks, Mike, and then...you weren't, right around the time I had to come out here. Agreed?"

"Yeah. You're not wrong about that."

"If you were feeling this way all along.... why didn't you say so?"

"Because it wasn't anything...clear. Random pangs of doubt, I guess. Then we were at the airport and you were leaving and you said what you did. It was so goddamn sweet. For you, at least."

Mike foundered, there, turning away again, eyes firmly out the front window. He felt as much as saw Harvey's hand leave the wheel and reach to touch his. He took it, returning the squeeze that said 'go on....'

“I was laughing at you," Mike pushed forward. "By the gate, laughing _with_ you, at how sentimental you were being. But I felt this huge bubble of 'sad’ inside, and I... had no idea why. Then you walked through the door to the jet way and you were _gone_ , Harvey. Like you'd disappeared. The whole ride home I was really shaken. I felt like I might not see you again.”

It started to rain, and the car got very quiet other than the drops hitting the windshield.

"Did you think I wouldn't understand? Because that sounds like something you definitely should have told me. Doesn't it?”

"By the time we talked, it didn’t feel relevant. Just me being a freak, living in fear of the other shoe dropping. I’m not an idiot; I know that’s part of this, and where it comes from.”

"I should come home with you," Harvey said, letting go of his hand to turn on the wipers, and somehow the words made Mike's heart rise and fall at the same time.

"What?"

"I can have a courier service get my things at the hotel in La Brea and send them home. There’s time. I could be on the plane with you."

"You'd do that?"

"Of course I would."

"Well you _can't_ , Harvey, so stop it."

"Why?"

"Only the thirty million or so the firm loses if your case falls to hell. Can you, even, afford that?”

"Sure," Harvey shrugged, and gave him his glibbest smile. "She'll be pissed, of course. But... I'm that good, baby; she'll get over it."

"C’mon….don’t. You can't come with me and you know it."

"Maybe not. But I want to. I've wanted to go home with you since I saw you at my door Friday - and I promise I'll do everything in my power to be there by next weekend. Okay?"

"Then what?" Mike felt another blurt of dark, deeply-felt honesty coming on; fought to stop it, but that wasn't happening. "We keep playing house ‘til you’re sick of your needy toy?”

Harvey didn't so much tap the brakes as take his foot off the gas, but it felt like an actual, physical jolt went through them both and ...oh, no. Mike looked over at him, and saw how hard Harvey was working to swallow the words in silence.

"I'm sorry," Mike leaned an elbow on the doorjamb and set his head on his hand, covering his eyes.

He'd hadn't meant that, not at all… but he'd said it and… oh _shit_.

"I'm not playing house," Harvey said it so low it was barely audible. “I don’t do that. And do you really think you’re a toy?”

"No, of course, not. I don't know why I…."

"Want to hear my take? You're pushing me away to try and make me walk. You're _testing_ me, Mike, and it’s making me feel like a frigging fish. You reel me in, you toss me overboard…”

“If I've been doing that.... I’m sorry.”

“Sorry won’t _fix_ this. And I don’t _want_ you to go around sorry,” Harvey was working up a head of steam. “You shouldn’t live your life feeling sad or jealous and I sure as _hell_ don’t want to be the reason you do."

It felt like the air went out of the car; Mike cracked his window open, putting up with heavy spatters of rain in order to be able to breathe.

“Are you dumping me on the way to the airport?”

“Of course not. Mike, please stop looking for a catastrophe in everything I say. I’m trying to tell you that I don't know what the hell to do anymore. I can give you gifts, take care of you in bed, say out loud how I feel about you. But if you don’t believe me - if you don't believe in _us_ , then….”

"Woah."

"Woah, what?"

"That, right there? The word 'then?’ Actual, catastrophic word, Harvey. That’s….bad."

"This is going nowhere," Harvey had gone beyond annoyed to visibly upset – but Mike could see he was also concerned by the increasing traffic; focused on checking mirrors, merging into the lane for the airport on unfamiliar roads in the dark. "Let’s stop, okay? Before one of us says something we really regret.”

"Shit, this is hard."

"Of course it is. Why do you think I've avoided relationships?" Harvey's voice sounded rueful but calmer. "Yet, here I am.”

They both stayed quiet the next few minutes. It felt awkward, but less awful than some of the possibilities.

"What do we do?" Mike asked as they pulled into short-term parking and Harvey found a spot.

"You need to think about it, and tell me..." Harvey pulled the key from the ignition. "Tell me what it'll take for you to feel sure and safe again and ... I'll do it. I'll swear, I’ll do practically anything."

"I don't know," Mike only realized that was the truth as he said it out loud. “I’d give you an answer right now, but… I don't know what it'll take."

" _There's_ our problem. 'Cause neither do I."

-*-

LAX was so busy at 10 p.m. you'd have thought it was Noon: People and suitcases flying by, porters with large carts, lines of people snaking through security talking loudly to be heard over the blare of announcements on the intercom.

It was no place to say goodbye.

"Should have had you drop me at the curb," Mike said.

"No, I needed this; needed us both out of that car," Harvey pointed toward the security checkpoint for Mike's airline. "That way -- your line is over there."

"I'll think about it," Mike stopped a couple of yards short of it and set down his bag, frustrated at how fast everything was moving, now. "I promise, when you get back… I’ll be ready to talk.”

"Good," Harvey didn't reach, but opened his arms in invitation. “So will I. And please remember… I’m the one who told you you’re not in this alone. I meant it."

Mike nodded; sank gladly into the embrace, a cheek on Harvey's shoulder, their arms and bodies fitting together so right, as right as ever. He held on to him; felt the press of a kiss by his ear, heard Harvey whispering into it.

"I love you, Mike. I know you love me too."

Mike felt his breath catch; opened his eyes to Harvey looking sad and conflicted. Worried for him. For them?

"I'll text you when we land," Mike said, blinking.

It got him a squeeze on the shoulder and a silent wink - and Harvey was walking away.

The urge to run after him; to yell 'I've changed my mind, come back to New York with me' was strong, but Mike fought it off.  

He wasn't even sure it would help. Harvey was right; at the moment, geography wasn’t their biggest problem.


	8. At Last

**New York - Thursday - 7am**

_“Harvey…why aren't you in L.A.?”_

Mike knew he was dreaming; his own voice sounding slow and heavy in his head, Dream Harvey standing silently in his bedroom doorway looking somber. He could feel his semi-conscious mind struggling to wake up before he had to hear the answer.

_“I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to hurt you, so…I’m here to say it’s ov….”_

Mike shot up to sitting with a gasp, bed sheet gripped in one fist.

“Shit,” he reached for his phone with his free hand before he’d even formed a clear thought for what he planned to do with it. “What the hell?”

He’d been back in New York for days, now, resigned to the fact that Harvey’s case was mired, fearing it could take another three damn weeks easily. He could still see Harvey at LAX winking and walking away from him.

 _‘You have to put me back on the Finley case,’_ he texted Louis. _‘I know I lost the motion to delay, but I need this case, so... gimme.’_

Text bubble, no bubble, text bubble…

_‘Let it go. You did your best. I want Simons moving the ball on it for now.'_

_‘Screw that. I'm on it.’_

Mike waited.

_‘You’re a needy brat.’_

"Look who’s talking," Mike said aloud. He thought about keying it in, but opted to go with _'Is that a yes?'_

_‘Ys’_

That got a snicker out of him: Louis could be as withholding as he liked, even if he only had an ‘e’ to work with. Mike needed that case. He needed a lifeline, and work felt like the only one he had left.

-*-

_L.A. - Thursday - 7:30 am_

Harvey read his email walking through the hotel lobby toward the car stand, amazed at how fast it built up overnight being on West coast time. A text message rattled the phone in his hand.

_‘No good deed goes unpunished.’_

Louis. He huffed a ‘what the hell’ sound.

_‘What do you know about good deeds?’_

_‘I gave Mike Monday AM off and he’s paying me back by wreaking havoc.’_

Harvey hit the 'call' icon.

“What are you talking about?”

“He's insisting he run the Finley case - on his own, with no _you_ here and against my wishes. I sent him to you so you could calm his ass down but he came back even more agitated," Louis sounded like he was working hard to rein his predilection for tumbling into ‘full snit' mode. "What did you do to the Boy Wonder, Batman?”

“I didn’t… _do_ anything to him…”

“Yeah, well, we need that damn case of yours finished so you and your thumb can get back here."

"Mike is _not_ under my thumb."

“Save the protest. It’s costing me time and money keeping Brooding Emo Boy and his rampaging emotions off Jessica's radar — and if you score a big win but he _loses_ a case? Guess how much hell we'll _all_ have to pay with her?”

“I need to get home…” Harvey said under his breath; heard the click as Louis hung up.

-*-

Elisa was flipping through files, getting ready for their morning review session when he walked in.

"Do you make it to New York often?" Harvey took the stack she handed him.

"Never been..." she looked intrigued. "Why?" 

"'Cause I think we’re going there tonight. Have your people book us four tickets on the Red Eye."

"Four?"

"Two for us, one for our client’s rep, and one for the opposing team. Call them...get them all in that conference room across the hall and tell them we are not leaving it either until we have a deal or eight p.m. _That’s_ when this negotiation goes on the road."

"Not to be needy, Harvey, but how the hell do I do all that plus go home and pack some clothes in two hours?"

"Hire a car," Harvey put his own files down; stacked her copies onto her laptop and handed the whole thing to her. "Work on your way … have the driver wait for you...then work on the way back. And if you find the thing that moves the needle and gets this nightmare of a case unstuck? I'll let you deliver our offer yourself." 

"Boss... I’m pretty sure you have me confused with Wonder Woman."

Harvey thought about saying something glib, then looked her up and down: His temporary sidekick legal-eagle – every bit as ambitious as a certain someone else. _Almost_ as bright as him, and admittedly far less slack than he was when Harvey had met him.

"What if you have a little of her in you, Elisa. Have you ever considered the possibility?"

"No one's ever accused me of it before."

"Not everyone has an eye for talent or the patience to work with it - but if you stick the landing, here? I promise you'll have one hell of a career reference in me."

"On it..."

Harvey headed toward his desk. He had a case of his own to build, one he had to present to Mike, and all the pieces had to be in place before they landed at JFK.

-*-

**7:30pm New York**

Mike spotted Louis by the door, twenty steps away from where he sat at the bar. It only took a glance to see Louis wasn't there to congratulate him on his win.

"Celebrating alone?" Louis asked. "I’d have thought you would have made at least one friend after all this time. And don't say Harvey, because I know he isn't your friend so much as your…what’s the accepted term these days?”

"This place serves fine wine, Louis. They don't need you tossing bitter grapes around."

"Ha ha. Witty…not. ‘Cause I’m _not_ bitter. I wouldn’t in a million …a _billion_ years…"

"I don’t mean about Harvey and me: You're bitter I insisted on handling the case and then proceeded to get us a fat settlement in under thirteen hours."

"You're right, I am. Know why? Because your _motivation_ for demanding the case wasn’t just shitty, it was… _triple_ shitty. And if you pull that again when Harvey's away I’m running straight to 'mom' and telling her your relationship issues are on the verge of potentially costing us big time. Understood?"

It seemed wise to avoid snapping back at him. Happily for Mike the martini he'd ordered showed up, and that first sip of it was a perfect excuse to stay silent.

"I needed a win," Mike said, eventually.

He hoped his tone was apology enough: Having to literally verbally bow to Louis would make this day suck hard all over again.

"Gonna buy me one of those?" Louis nodded at the martini glass after a small silence.

"As long as you change the subject.” Mike caught the bartender's eye, pointing at his own glass and then at Louis.

"How about..." Louis pulled up a seat. "the new Broadway season?"

"Can't help you there; not my thing.”

“The Brancusi exhibit at the Guggenheim?”

“Nope. I'd suggest baseball, but I know that you don’t…”

"Please, spare me. Pro sports: Such a racket. It’s today’s ‘opium of the people.’”

"We could sit in silence," Mike said. "There's nothing wrong with a little silence."

"Congratulations on the win," Louis took the glass from the bartender and gave it a half a tip. "I meant it earlier: You're still a brat. But congratulations."

"Thanks."

It wasn’t like sharing the evening with a friend. But Mike had to admit, dinner at the bar with Louis did help him get through the evening; kept his win from being drained of its power, and kept his mind on tomorrow.

Now, if he could come up with about twenty more wins… 

-*-

**New York – I-495 West - Friday 6:30 a.m.**

The transition from L.A. to New York couldn't have been harsher: From blue skies to sodden with a cold rain falling.

"No wonder people here are grumpy," Elisa wiped at the inside of the black car window with her coat sleeve, trying to get a glimpse of the city coming into view.

"It has its charms, even on a day like this," Harvey assured her. "You'll see."

"No insult, but...I can safely bet you fifty dollars that won't happen."

"I'll take that bet."

She could tell he was in a mood that would not be squashed: Not by weather, his out-of-her-element assistant or even their deeply annoyed negotiating partners riding the same highway in their own black cars.

It felt good knowing she had a hand in it: She had, indeed, found the argument that moved the dial. They'd worked all day and on the plane, too; didn’t sleep in their seats until somewhere over Ohio, once they had an agreement in principal. All that as left was to hammer out about twenty devilish details.

"Harvey, do you mind if I walk a couple of blocks?" They were steps from the building housing Pearson Spector Litt. "Once we're in that meeting room...we won't get a break, will we?"

"Sure, take a walk," Harvey said. "Get breakfast. Do some people watching."

"Are you kidding?" 

"I never kid about people watching. It's a sport here,” She watched him head for the building like a man on a mission. “Plus... I have a bet to win.”

Elisa turned toward Sixth Avenue but didn't get far; she was stopped by the sight of a young man in a deep blue suit running up to her at full speed - tousled hair, oblivious to the raindrops that were falling again, looking agitated in ways both happy and not.

"What’s Harvey doing here?" He asked.

He must have seen them get out of the car; must have seen them from a solid block or more away - he was still lightly out of breath.

"You're Mike." She noted the head tilt it got her. "Harvey had a picture of you on his desk. Well...our firm's desk he's been using in L.A. Not his desk here, obviously; I’ve never seen his desk here, so... "

"A picture of me?" Presumably-Mike cut in. "What picture?"

"I don't know. It looks like you're by the water."

"Could I have been on a boat?" he asked, understanding blooming on his face.

"Maybe. I'm not sure," She felt for him; he was visibly blinking back emotion, now, his eyes firmly on the building in front of them. "I can tell you that wherever it is...you look like you’re exactly where you want to be."

And then he was gone, too, heading toward the doors without a goodbye.

"Three guesses why Boss Man took our show on the road?" Elisa walked in the general direction of a café or diner to be selected. "The first two don't count."

-*-

“Why...aren't you in L.A.?"

Mike felt a shiver of deja vu standing in Harvey's office doorway, watching Harvey notice him and look up. 

"I'm here..." Harvey kept right on flicking through the mail Donna had left on his desk for him, pushing some envelopes to one side and others into the trash. "Because we are still broken...and because I realized that not only _can_ I fix us...I _have_ to fix us."

"Harvey, we are not broken." 

"Maybe I picked a strong word. But there's a rip, isn't there? One big enough that the rain keeps getting in. It heals a little when we're together, then life takes us apart and it's back. Part of me has known it’s been there ever since I hurt you… but to be honest? A lot of me wanted to pretend it wasn’t. I’m sorry for that.”

"I'm over it, Harvey. I _told_ you I’m over it and…"

"You told me you were _mostly_ over it - which is exactly the moment I should have come home. I thought all you needed was time; that I could take this case, and it would be enough to send you gifts and toys and be with you from the other end of a phone line. But what you need is the two of us together until we’re mended for real, however long that takes.”

“Apparently you aren't aware I crushed the Finley case." 

“Oh, I heard. Congratulations on that. I’m told their team will be walking funny for a while. But this isn't about what you can _do_ for us, Mike: It's about how you're doing. And if you really were right with the world and with us you wouldn’t have thrown around weight you don’t actually possess yet.”

“Look, whatever's going on with you..." Mike felt the words tumbling out of his mouth, well beyond his control. “It's your issue. Don't try to make it about me being weak, Harvey."

"You're not weak. You're so strong; going through all you have in your life? Some of which I actually _put_ you through lately?"

" _Harvey..."_ Mike heard how the word came out; half a warning and half a plea.

Why was it so _difficult_ , standing here and hearing the only words he’d wanted to hear from him for all these weeks?

"And to still have a heart the size of yours? You're one of the strongest people I've ever met. But you have a 'self-sabotage' mode that kicks in like crazy when you're frustrated...." 

"I don’t _do_ that anymore."

“Sure you do - you sort of just _did_ , or started to at least. It can get you in a bind, that instinct to lash out before someone can disappoint you…” Harvey was walking his way, as if he could sense Mike's urge to cut him off and keep arguing growing again. "You'll battle the very people trying to support you.”

"Takes one to know one, I guess..." Mike shifted a step back, Harvey right in front of him now; over him with a look in his eyes that was...what? Warm. Regretful. "Is that what you were doing at the airport? Acting tough?”

"Probably,” Harvey conceded. Mike felt a hand coming up to cup the side of his face, his ear, Harvey's thumb stroking slowly over his skin. “My own bad habits: Putting work first no matter the cost. ‘Cause work can’t let me down, can it?” 

"What are you doing?" Mike asked, though he sure as hell wasn’t pulling away from that touch.

“Sometimes we do better without words," Harvey said it so low, almost like he was thinking it out loud. "Would it embarrass you if I kiss you here?"

Mike thought the first time they kissed in the office, it would be overnight; four a.m., no threat of anyone except maybe the night guard wandering by but here was shaking his head no, which meant yes, and reaching up for him. 

He wished that he were one of those people who could keep their eyes open when they kissed but it felt so good the best he could manage was to get arms around Harvey and hang on; to let him know how much he wanted this, drinking in Harvey’s contented hum, feeling it light them both up.

"Harvey?" Donna's voice was cutting through the haze, sounding tinny on the intercom.

"What?" Harvey said it loud enough to make sure the phone picked it up behind him; barely pulling away, lips hovering. Mike brushed them with his own, enjoying the lick and nip he got back.

"Two things," She said. "First, the walls are glass so what the hell are you thinking?" 

"We're going public," Harvey turned slightly to shrug at her, an arm still firmly around him. "What's the second thing?"

"Your financial advisor’s here. Should I show her in or have her take a seat?"

"Send her in."

"Your...what?" Mike asked, letting Harvey wordlessly steer him toward the seat at the low table across from his desk.

But Harvey was gone to him; straightening his tie, greeting the woman in the Chanel raincoat, seating her by his desk. Whatever they were working on, it was clear they'd ironed out all details in advance. Most of what Mike could pick up was her asking him to sign, initial, sign and initial as she slid stacks of paper at him. 

"Is that it?" He heard Harvey ask her, eventually. "Thank you for pulling this together. Do you mind waiting in the lobby for a few?"

Mike stayed silent while she left; as Harvey walked over to join him, spreading the papers out on the little table in front of him.

"What the hell?" Mike asked, it hitting him what all their mumbled references to property and escrow accounts and passive monthly income might mean. "Are you running away from home?”

" _We_ are. If you want to..." Harvey tapped the top document with an index finger. "This one is my letter of resignation. If we pull the trigger, three copies go out today: One to Jessica, one to the partners, and one to the business office..."

"Jesus... Harvey... why would you..."

"This packet gets sent to my realtor. The condo goes on the market - and because it will sell fast a storage company gets contacted the same day. The bottom folder has a breakout of my investments," Harvey tugged it away from the table and handed it to him. "What they're worth, what I can afford to take out each month for the rest of our lives.”

"Could you...slow down?" Mike asked, flipping open the folder. "Holy, crap! That's...a zero more than I expected to see."

"I don't care when it is, Mike: Today, three weeks from now or ten years - if you need our life to be the two of us with no distractions, then we go away."

"Where?" 

"Any of a dozen places. We can live on the condo proceeds alone in some of them."

"This isn't real. You're not...serious."

"I sure am: That's why I had her wait. We say go... it's a go. I’ve been telling myself I can’t fix us - that it’s in your hands. But you’re not able to heal because you don't believe I'm all in. So…here are all my chips. Let’s go see the world.”

"I don't need to see the world,” Mike said; heard his own voice heavy not with fear but with certainty. “All I want is what we've got."

"Then start believing it's yours,” Harvey slid the bundle toward him. "But if a day comes when you change your mind? Tell me so… and we're off.'"

The fear gone, Mike felt other emotions long held back flowing; the threat of tears, too, and an urge to turn the conversation sharply to the right.

"So... Elisa's hot." 

"Shut the fuck up," Harvey’s own eyes brightened at being served up a softball. "Don't talk about her like that; I'll have you know she found the key to wrapping up my case.”

"Huh," Mike nodded. "I won the Finley thing.... and Elisa won yours. What the hell _have_ you been doing the last three weeks, Harvey?"

The warm, slow chuckle that got him; so full of 'wait 'til I get you home' had Mike blinking again. It felt so frigging good….

 

-*-

The rest of the world intruded, then: Harvey’s office phone ringing - the lawyers from the L.A. awaiting them, Elisa calling Harvey on his cell, another client in the lobby waiting for Mike.   They barely saw each other the next ten hours, but it was different, no question- knowing Harvey was rooms and not three thousand miles away.

_'Will you wait for me at my place? We won’t be done for hours.'_

Mike got the text message around four p.m. 

_'You want me to wait around on a Friday night? IDK I think I might have a date.'_

_'Your wrists have a date...'_ Text bubble, no text bubble... Mike bit his lip waiting for it. _'...with a long, leather tie and my headboard.'_

_'damnIhatehowgoodthatsounds.'_

_'No, you don't.'_  

-*- 

"Do you remember telling me you'd stop being my dom if I gave you puppy eyes even once?"

"That was a long time ago."

They were standing in Harvey's kitchen, cleaning up the dinner dishes.

 "It really wasn't..." he took the plates Harvey was rinsing and stacked them in the dishwasher. "Pretty sure it was ten months ago."

"Well... a lot has happened. Hasn't it?"

They'd both been tired by the time this long day was done, but both were starving, too. So Mike had ordered Tom Yum Soup, Lo Mein and sushi to arrive right as Harvey got home. They'd eaten it on the sofa with the fireplace going; no TV on at all, their plates on their laps, Harvey’s feet on the coffee table and Mike's head on his shoulder, talking quietly.

They hadn't been alone together since they'd left Catalina Island, and it felt almost unbelievably good. For Mike, the word 'peaceful' came to mind.

"When did this change for you?" He asked Harvey, putting the last of the silverware in the washer.

"I think it was the first weekend we went upstate. Having you there with me…then dropping you at your apartment? I realized how much I hoped you would pick me and not her. When was it for you?"

"I'm not sure. I remember going to sleep one night next to my dom and...waking up next to the person I loved. It was deeply terrifying."

"Don't be scared," Harvey stepped in, pressing him against the countertop with his body. "I've got you...."

A new song started as Harvey kissed him; long, soaring strings as their lips met that were so improbably timed it made Harvey pull back a touch and smile down at him. The strings were followed by a voice full of warmth and deep, joyous relief.

  _At last..._

_My love has come along...._

_My lonely days are over and life is like a song._

The music seemed to incite Harvey; Mike felt a hand sliding down his arm, asking for his wrist and pinning it behind him. Harvey’s free hand cupped Mike’s ass cheek, pressing them together, rubbing, and after all these days it was so much, that little bit of contact, it was dizzying. 

"Wait…” Harvey said against his mouth, slowing their slow grind to a stop. “Where did you put the paperwork that I gave you?"

"Good thing you came home, Harvey. Your sex talk ...rusty as fuck." 

"No, really - where?"

"Over there..." Mike detached enough to nod toward the far end of the counter, keeping his eyes on Harvey's and reaching with his mouth to ask for more.

"Hold that thought," Harvey stepped around him.

"I think we should put all those docs in your safe," Mike said. "So I won't be tempted to pull the trigger.”

"Have you been, already? Tonight?" Harvey was on his way back with a business card between his fingertips, holding it out for Mike to take. 

"No, but... the idea of running away together? Can't say I've never thought about it."

"Someday," Harvey said. "When we've wrung all the fun out of New York."

"Who is this?" Mike re-read the card.

"My realtor," Harvey said. "The person who sold me this place. I was going to have him sell the condo if we left, but since we're staying I think you should sell yours, instead."

"Sell mine? Why? I _know_ you hate going all the way down there, Harvey,” Mike felt the urge to debate it vigorously welling. “…and I _know_ it's two subways or a long car ride, but it _is_ mine and I...."

Something in Harvey's patient expression said 'I'll let you catch up, then...' and made him stop flat.

"I like this place," Harvey said. "I don't want to have to give it up in order to find one that belongs to us both, so..."

"Harvey are you seriously asking me to move in with you by way of a proposed real estate transaction?"

"Love may be beautiful, but in the end it’s nothing more than a voluntary joint partnership. Sell your place. Invest the equity here. Make it ours, instead of mine."

This? After a long, horrible month and a day that felt three long? Mike was done; his cheek dropping to Harvey’s shoulder, arms going around him to hold on tight. 

"Yes. I'll come live in sin with you." 

"Sin and perversion?"

“Oh, yeah. The perversion's not mandatory but it's key to my decision."

"Thank God," Harvey was leaning, too, and Mike could feel in his warm, solid body that Harvey was as done as he was. "Are you still up for a close encounter with my headboard?"

"Our headboard, Mike corrected him. “Hell, yes."

Mike needed a minute to mentally push the world away, so he closed up the apartment while Harvey showered. He hit the lights, the jets on the fireplace, wiped down the sink once more and checked on the deck locks.

As he threw the front door deadbolt, he saw Harvey in silhouette in their bedroom; fresh from the hot water in his boxers, contemplating the contents of Mike's toy drawer, flipping through it intently.

“Thank you,” He said under his breath as he walked his way, addressing whatever organizing force in the universe had helped guide them here. “Thank you for this. I swear...I won't let anything fuck it up."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being so slow, but I struggled to finish this until I realized what it needed to be which is an ending of sorts. I still want to write this little bdsm world some more, but no more relationship angst - they're done with that, here. :)


End file.
